Running Together
by NoodleCanon
Summary: Looking to flee from her life as the Yuki-Onna spirit, Ikuna discreetly slips into the Ningenkai to live among the humans. She's discovered by an old thieving partner-The Legendary Bandit Kurama-who welcomes her into his world of lively friends and old, unresolved feelings. As her resolve to starve grows and life energy wanes, she must decide between love and atonement. Kurama/OC
1. 1

**Running Together**

1: In the Apartment...

* * *

Ikuna's kimono slipped down her shoulder. She pulled it back up, balancing the ivy basket in one hand. The basket hooked perfectly onto the hangers she installed earlier that afternoon, when she noticed a neighbor watching her from his sliding glass window. The ivy spilled over the rim, and with time would grow to conceal her balcony from the watchful eyes of the family next door.

Henry mreowed for affection, gently clawing at his master's skirts. Ikuna smirked to herself and knelt down on her cushion beside his. She saw to the orange tuft of fur on his belly, and he stretched his paws up to the sunshine in contentment. She looked over the collection of plants she had arranged on the small balcony: herbs, balmy plants, a few orchids, and even a small planter box of sunflowers. She briefly considered the possibility of laying grass turf out on the floor, but decided the hassle couldn't be worth the result.

It had been a long few weeks, and smuggling various treasures over the border into the human world had been quite a chore. Manipulating the landlord's dreams to include her as a paying tenant had been an easy task—though convincing a human's brain to accept dream as reality these days rarely was—and after purchasing furniture and moving it around the apartment to her liking, Ikuna finally felt at peace with her decision to leave the demon world. She embraced the idea of a new life. No one from the Makai knew where she was, and she was comfortable in the anonymity provided by her new home.

She let her hair down from its ornate pins and combed it over her shoulder, a black curtain falling in waves around the knot in her obi. Her stunning features were favored in the Makai, from her long legs and thin wrists to her ample breasts and finely tipped horns poking through her hair. Her dark eyes rose to the sky, and she took a deep breath of human world sunshine and started the work of arranging branches and flowers into a stolen vase from an era long since passed.

A footstep sounded in the doorway.

Ikuna sprang to her feet and in one fluid motion, spun around and pressed her knife into the flesh of the intruder.

Kurama's breath caught in his throat, and Ikuna drank in the satisfaction of catching him as off guard as he did her. "How did you find me?" she asked, voice hard and low. Her eyes bore into Kurama's, preemptively searching for a lie.

"I went to Himo's," he said calmly, raising his hands in a show of surrender, "They informed me that you had left without word and haven't been seen in the area in weeks."

"Did you come to drag me back?" Ikuna asked coolly.

"On the contrary," Kurama placed a hand on Ikuna's, lowering it—and the knife—from his throat, "I've come to welcome you."

Ikuna stepped back, throwing a sideways look at the man before her, "That's rather peculiar," she dropped the knife on her cushion and folded her arms defensively, "considering demons are forbidden from entering the Ningenkai."

Kurama cracked a small smile, "That didn't seem to stop you."

"Is this blackmail? What do you want from me? Money? My body?"

He laughed, and Ikuna's face crumpled into a scowl.

"I don't get the joke."

"I'm sorry," he said, turning his smile back to her, "It's just that you seem to be far less informed than I thought."

"King Enki's decree was that no demon cause mischief in the human world," Ikuna said warily. She shifted from foot to foot.

"He didn't say anything about a demon inhabiting the human world peacefully."

She stared at him stupidly, "What are you trying to tell me?"

Kurama smiled at her apologetically.

Weeks of traveling to the Makai barrier, moving stashes of treasure from her old home in Himo's brothel to her new home in the Ningenkai, paying boatmen to transport her over rivers, and manipulating border patrol to allow herself safe, discreet passage. "So," she started, covering her mouth with her sleeve in chagrin, "I was allowed to stay here all along? You aren't going to tell your human friends to eliminate me?"

"I hate to think of the trouble you went through to get here," Kurama bit his thumb and turned away, "but I have to admit that it was all completely unnecessary. If anyone else on my team found you, they would have made a check-in visit at most, if only to get to know the demon next door."

"Ahhh…" Ikuna leaned against the balcony railing, "All the effort to get here without alerting the patrol, and it was for nothing. Oh, stop laughing, you old fool," she whacked Kurama lightly on the shoulder, but felt the corners of her mouth pulling up despite herself, "I haven't had a proper meal in years. How far out could you sense me?"

Kurama leaned against the doorframe, Henry mewing and curling around his leg. "Not very far. However, it wasn't your energy I caught first, but your scent."

Something buried centuries deep within Ikuna's chest stirred. She chuckled to herself and looked away, "Well, they say the sense of smell is closely linked to memory."

The words hung in the air. Distant chapters and memories fluttered about in the space between the two. A breeze blew through, rustling the ivy leaves, lifting Ikuna's and Kurama's hair off of their shoulders. In the silence, Henry hopped up on the balcony rail and stretched a paw out for attention.

"I've never known you to keep pets," Kurama said, lifting his hand for Henry to sniff. The cat seemed satisfied with whatever he identified and rubbed his head against Kurama's outstretched hand.

Ikuna watched him tend to Henry's ears and chin before deciding something, "Would you like to come inside?" she asked, letting her guard slip away. The friend of the former spirit detective was here to "check in" and not drag her back over the Makai barrier? She thought of all her wasted effort, "For obvious reasons I am unfortunately without customary refreshments except for human world whiskey and a few premium bottles of stolen wine."

Kurama laughed like velvet, and Ikuna felt her chest swell listening to it. "Unfortunately, I have to leave for class. I merely stopped by to welcome you to the neighborhood."

"Ha! No staying for a house warming drink with your old friend Yuki-Onna? You think you could have called first," Ikuna stepped forward to size Kurama up, "It's been two and a half human years since we last saw each other, you know. After the Makai Tournament you left without even a goodbye. Your human family must have some hold on you," she teased.

"I have put my mother through enough torment. I thought it would be a proper time to settle down and become a good son."

"Very noble of you. What are you learning at your human college, anyway?"

"I'm studying Chemistry, mostly."

"Bah," Ikuna waved her hand dismissively, "I taught you everything you need to know."

"Heh, humans don't really consider botanical alchemy as a science."

"One could argue that those patterns of thinking are the very reason why humans are so easy to kill."

Kurama's smile fell, and he grew serious as his eyes bore into Ikuna's. "You know," he said, "One might consider that a threat on humankind." Ikuna gaped at him for a moment, feeling her face grow pale.

 _He doesn't really think—_

"Just kidding." His face split into a grin.

Ikuna gasped, "Oh you—" she whacked him on the arm again and broke into laughter, Kurama joining her. A breeze kicked up, swirling through their hair and clothes.

 **End Chapter 1**

* * *

 _Noodle Note_ : Hey, thanks for giving this a read. If you liked it and you want more, please drop me a comment! I'd love to read what you have to say. I plan for this story to have a slow build, so I'd want to post chapters twice a week if possible. I'll hopefully see you next chapter. Take care! -NC xx

4/8/19 Note: Ikuna's modeled after the traditional beauty standard of thin and fair skinned. I don't believe that this is the only form of beauty out there, and I encourage all of us to actively seek beauty within ourselves 3


	2. 2

**Running Together**

Chapter 2: In the Apartment...

* * *

Ikuna turned her head at the sound of knocking on the door. She had been reading in the living room, a breeze from the balcony bringing in the late afternoon air. Henry was stretched out in the garden, basking in the light of the setting sun. Ikuna had been in the human world for two weeks now, and the nights were starting to grow cooler as summer gave way to autumn. She rose and answered the door.

"Welcome back," she moved aside to allow her old friend into her apartment. Whereas the Yoko Kurama towered over her, this Suichi form was less than a head taller. Ikuna liked it. She could read his eyes much better this way.

She brushed a bit of hair from his face and asked, "How was your day? You were in class, right?"

"It was fine," Kurama removed his bag and placed it on the entryway table, "I missed a year of school while in Demon World, so I'm afraid I'm stuck learning basics. Today we expanded upon thermochemistry and how it relates to enthalpy. However, I find most of the material to be review from my high school classes," he grinned at her expression, "You're not entirely sure what I'm talking about, are you?"

Ikuna pursed her lips and shrugged, striding into the kitchen, "I spent my education studying an entirely different set of skills as you're aware." She flicked on an electric kettle and poured herself a glass of whiskey from a half-empty bottle, "You may keep to your solutions and combustions, and I will keep to my tea ceremonies and calligraphy."

"Which reminds me," Kurama took a seat on the couch, "How long are you going to continue wearing kimonos?"

"What do you mean? Humans wear kimonos all the time."

"Yes, well," Kurama paused, leaning back and holding his chin, "certainly when you were still in the human world, kimonos were the preferred style of dress. In these modern times, particularly in more urban settings, the typical style is more… western."

Ikuna sipped her whiskey and thought on this. The kettle began to simmer, "What you're saying is that my kimonos are outdated?"

"Not necessarily," he backtracked, "Kimonos still have their place in society, but they're typically for more traditional purposes. Weddings, festivals, and even some rural humans still wear them."

"I'm traditional…" Ikuna replied, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious of her elaborate costume.

"It's especially uncommon to see a woman these days walking about in public in full kimono with the obi tied in front and her hair in an elaborate datehyougo style. Humans these days may view you as… out of place."

She took another swallow of spirits and studied the bold pattern of her kimono, her red and gold obi tied loosely at her waist. She was dressed as an oiran of the old days, the only way she really knew how to dress. The kettle was boiling now. She poured the hot water into a single mug resting on a dishtowel, and dropped a tea infuser into it.

She sat next to Kurama with their drinks and sighed, looking around her sparse apartment. While the living room only housed a couch and tea table, the bedroom had a footed bed and nightstand, and the bathroom was considered "westernized" as well. There was space for a dining room off from the kitchen as opposed to in the main living area, and wood flooring ran through the apartment instead of tatami mat. He was right. Compared to her modern surroundings, Ikuna was very out of place. She fidgeted with one of the ornamental hairpins tinkling in her hair.

"I suppose you're right," she said finally, handing the tea to Kurama and sipping her burning whiskey. "I don't quite belong here do I?"

"That isn't to say that you can't take pride in your consort costuming!" he exclaimed, "I'm merely suggesting that you consider expanding your wardrobe to include more modern fashion. Blouses and denim pants would be a good place to start."

Ikuna folded her legs under her and turned to face Kurama directly. "My dear, we both know that I've never been one to confine myself to the bindings of trousers," she simpered, pouring herself another drink and taking a sip. She thought for a moment. "Alright," she said after a moment, "Other than trousers, what are my options? I noticed women wearing skirts of varying lengths. Does that indicate any social status? Should I worry about colors or is modern Japan more relaxed about hues and dyes? What about my hair? Yours hangs loose. Is that appropriate for women as well?"

Kurama leaned back from Ikuna's barrage of questions and smiled nervously, "I have a feeling I may have gotten myself in too deep here. I'm afraid women's fashion is a bit beyond my expertise," he straightened up and looked off into the distance, "But perhaps… Yes, perhaps I could ask one of the girls to help you."

"Girls?" Ikuna cocked her head to the side, "One of your girlfriends you always speak of?"

Kurama chuckled, "I wouldn't call them that. As much as I adore my friends, I must say that I treasure them as only friends."

"What? Why? From the stories you've told me, they all seem like very capable young ladies!" Ikuna leered conspiringly at Kurama, "Which one are you secretly in love with? Is it Botan? I used to see her before the days of the Makai barrier. If memory serves, she is an absolutely darling girl," she took another swig of whiskey, "Don't tell me. Are you pining over the Yukimora girl? Is that why you don't want to talk about it? Because you don't want to hurt your friendship with the great Yusuke Urameshi?"

Kurama's chuckling evolved into laughter, and Ikuna relished the sound, "And to think, it has been nearly four years since you last interrogated me about a woman in my life."

"Watching your human body take you through puberty was an absolute treat! You would become so flustered at the mention of women. I would let my collar fall open and watch the stoic Suichi shift in his seat. It's a shame I couldn't locate you when your human body was still a child. I would have snatched you up and carried you off to Demon World. The other consorts would have eaten you up!"

"Heh, I hardly think my mother would have agreed with me being spirited away by a succubus."

The conversation fell into a comfortable lull. Kurama and Ikuna sipped on their drinks, content without words. Henry rose and arched his back into a stretch before hopping up on the couch between them. Ikuna stroked the black fur down his back.

"Hey," she turned back to Kurama, "Introduce me to your human friends."

He cocked his head to the side, "Are you actually interested in meeting them?"

"You used to tell me all about them during our rendezvous. They seem like such a lively, _energetic_ bunch."

"Onna…" Kurama's face grew serious, "What have you been doing for energy?"

"Ha!" Ikuna cackled, "You couldn't possibly think that I would feed on your friends! That would be horribly uncouth of me," she settled down and gave her friend an impish grin, "Unless one of them would like to volunteer. A few of them sound like a wild ride. A little taste of that Urameshi boy would likely last another week."

"Onna—"

"Or that Kuwabara. He would be easy prey. I could shift my appearance in his dreams to look like the ice maiden you've told me about."

"Onna."

"Or his sister. Now there's a tough nut to crack. I would delight in the challenge—"

"That's enough," he said firmly, "I am not concerned about the safety of my friends in your hands, and frankly it is none of my business what relations you may have with them," he softened and laid his hand on hers, "but as _your_ friend I am concerned about whether or not you have been feeding."

Ikuna stiffened, but she kept her eyes trained on Kurama's. "The last whole human life force I ate was when they still called me 'Yuki-Onna,'" her eyes flitted down to her hand in his, "That was before the Makai barrier was erected… I've been feeding from lesser demons for the last few centuries," she admitted reluctantly, "That hasn't changed since you came here."

"That explains the irregularity in your behavior. I've noticed that you've been taking less care in your personal appearance," Kurama lifted Ikuna's chin to meet her eyes. Her breath caught at the notion of a distant memory. All she could think about were those green eyes studying her, knowing her, "You look tired, Onna," he leaned back to his spot on the couch, crossing his legs, "When was the very last time you fed at all?"

Ikuna sagged into herself and thought back, "It was a few days before I left the ochaya. About a month."

"How much longer do you have until you crash?"

"Six weeks. Maybe more if I don't exert myself." She could see the gears in Kurama's pretty head working, but she couldn't bear to accept his care or worry. "The crash will be more like a gentle halt. I haven't been feeling in top shape since I began my demon diet."

"You could—"

"No," Ikuna held up a hand to Kurama's mouth, "Don't worry yourself about me. I already have a plan. I'll manage."

"What will you do?" Kurama asked.

Ikuna motioned to her garden. "I'll feed from my plants. I won't receive nearly as much energy at a time as with a living being, but the slow trickle will keep me up and moving."

Kurama made a noise in his throat, indicating to Ikuna that he wasn't completely sold on the idea. Nevertheless he gave her an apprehensive nod and dropped the subject. Henry rolled over onto his back, presenting his orange tummy. They both took turns petting him in the tense silence.

Two weeks later, Ikuna stood in her bedroom, spinning to admire herself in the mirror. She had heeded Kurama's advice and ventured out into the city to purchase clothing more appropriate to the modern living world, but the task proved more difficult than she anticipated. After sifting through racks of clothing in the first shop, she realized that she didn't have much of a clue as to how typical humans dressed in this day and age. She wound up sitting on a bench, watching women walking through the streets, and studying the fashion.

 _That one is too dull in color. It likely wouldn't suit my fair skin and dark hair. Oh, I do despise trousers—or "pants". I see that long skirts are acceptable for all women to wear. That's reassuring. Ah, but what on earth is on their feet? Why would a woman balance on such a tiny stick? What happened to geta? They were much safer to walk in. Oh, there's a woman in a kimono. Oh… but she's clearly an old hag. I suppose he was right. Kimonos are quite outdated for popular dress._

After an hour or two of people-watching, she had a much better understanding of what she should purchase, and now here she stood. Clothes littered her bedroom, spread out in mock outfits so that she could assess what looked visually appealing together. Henry was purring softly in a discarded shopping bag.

She adjusted the slit on her long, maroon skirt and straightened the belt at her waist. The neckline of her white shirt hung just between her breasts, exposing her chest bones. She rather liked the way it looked, but the single layer of thin fabric felt much too light in relation to the heavy kimonos that she was used to wearing. She studied herself more critically. She could see her breasts through the fabric, but could not figure out why. None of the women she saw on the street had their nipples pressing through the fabric of their shirts. Come to think of it, breasts appeared much rounder and… perkier than what she remembered from the days of old. This will require some thought to work around…

The front door unlatched, and Ikuna could hear the tinkling of her apartment key and the smell of a dear friend in the air. "Kurama!" she called to the living room, "Welcome back!"

"Hello! Are you ready to leave for Genkai's?" he called back to her. She pattered through the bedroom door to greet him. "We had better hurry," he said, "We only have an hour until the next train leaves—" He set a bag of cat food down in the kitchen and turned smile at her, but immediately covered his mouth and looked away. "Onna—What—"

"Oh…" Ikuna stopped short, "It doesn't suit me well?" she scowled and looked down at her outfit. The saleswoman assured her that she "was a knockout" in her slitted skirt and plunging neckline. Apparently she had been lied to.

"It isn't that, it's just… Ah…" he trailed off. She peered at Kurama through her eyelashes. No, that wasn't the look of repulsion that she saw there.

"It's my breasts, isn't it?" she crossed her arms and huffed, "I can't seem to figure out how women these days conceal their breasts from being seen through their shirts. It can't be that they're all wearing thick fabrics, that would be impractical during the summer months."

Kurama turned to her, eyes trained on her face, and only her face, "A bra. What you're referring to is a bra," he kept his expression straight, but the pink tint in his cheeks betrayed him.

"A bra? Like a brassiere? I've heard about these contraptions before, but I never considered their importance. They used to be two little triangles and a string," Ikuna clasped her hands in front of her and leaned toward Kurama, using her indecency to make him squirm—an old favorite pastime—"Do we have time to purchase one? I think I can speak for both of us when I say that meeting your friends would be a much more comfortable experience if I had it."

"Yes. Yes, I'm sure that there will be a store somewhere on the way to the train station," he slung his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his keys, "Did you buy shoes while you were out today?"

 _He was never this modest as a demon_ , Ikuna mused, "Yes, love, I have these," she retrieved a pair of calf-high boots from under the entryway table. They had a small heel on them, "The saleswoman insisted I wear these. I'm not sure how I'll fair walking in them, but it couldn't be much different than geta."

"What about a jacket?" Kurama asked, averting his eyes from her shirt, hanging open as she stooped forward to pull on her boots.

"I left it in my bedroom."

"Right, then. I'll go get it for you," he escaped behind her.

"The brown one!" Ikuna called, "I want the brown leather one!"

 **End Chapter 2**

* * *

 _Noodle Note_ : I had this idea of Ikuna walking around, and people coming up to her asking if she was a cosplayer, but she literally has no idea what that is, so she just says yes and people start taking pictures with her and then she thinks she's being punished because they're stealing her soul.

Thanks for reading, by the way! I have my first two story followers (the ultimate compliment). Thank you **Leahcar-Soutaichou** and **redkatkit** for the love. See you next chapter!


	3. 3

**Running Together**

Chapter 3: In the Apartment...

* * *

Sunlight filtered through the ivy as dusk fell on Ikuna's balcony. She basked in the glow, Henry to her left on his cushion, and some lavender and yarrow beginning to sprout to her right. She meditated on the sound of distant cars and the chatter of humans on their ways home for the night. The evening had been peaceful, the afternoon lonely, and the morning leisurely. She scarcely had the strength to dress herself after the visit to Genkai's the week prior, an expected consequence of over-exerting herself that day. She glanced at a dead orchid in the corner. Its vitality was enough to allow her to remain standing for extended periods of time today, but the energy wouldn't hold her up for long. She thought back to the week before.

Kurama's new human—and inhuman—friends didn't care for her. She leaned a hand to her cheek and watched the people below. When in the moment, she thought that she could win them over with her old-fashioned brothel charm. It wasn't that Ikuna felt particularly hurt by his friends disliking her. No, it was more that she felt that they didn't give her a chance beyond their first impressions. The more put off by her they became, the more challenged she felt to win their friendship. Yet, here she was, with only one friend to account for in the month that she had resided in the Ningenkai. She sighed, replaying the visit from memory.

"Yusuke, do you usually slick your hair back?" Ikuna asked, running her fingers through it, "It makes you look so rough and tumble. I find it becoming."

"Just about everyday I'm alive," he smiled, but she could detect a hint of discomfort when he drew his head back from her hand. She turned to Keiko with a sly grin.

"My, my, is he usually so withdrawn?" Ikuna asked impishly.

Keiko sucked in her cheeks and averted her jealous eyes elsewhere, "Only with strangers," she replied curtly. Ikuna shifted her attention away, not hiding the dismissive expression on her face.

"Oh, Yukina, you are absolutely precious! Have you been wearing modern human clothing for long?"

Yukina offered a polite smile, "Well, I wear my kimono every once in a while. I usually wear the dresses Keiko gave to me."

"Well, may I say," Ikuna slipped an arm around Yukina's waist and tipped her chin up. She drew her face in close, smirking at her delicate prey, "You are too adorable for this world. I have half a mind to spirit you away. Why, I would simply devour you if we were ever alone," she teased and flicked her eyes up at Kuwabara, who sat stunned. Yukina visibly stiffened, unsure of how to proceed in politely squirming away from Ikuna's clutches. Ikuna released her, growing bored of the game.

"You're awfully friendly," Shizuru said flatly.

"You know, Kazuma, I find it quite a miracle that you've fallen for the lovely and feminine Yukina with your sister dressing like a man."

Ikuna huffed. _Who knew that Kurama's friends were so reserved? He's always so jovial with me._ She could admit that her constant flirting wasn't the most successful way to make _platonic_ friends, but it was as natural as breathing. Seduction was a simple dialect to her.

She sipped on her whiskey and fiddled with her horns. Drinking was a form of self-medication when her energy was growing low. Being drunk diverted her attention from the jittery hands and fogginess in her brain that came from starving. Perhaps her grogginess was the cause of her poor social skills. In spite of her typical laissez-faire attitude towards interpersonal matters, she found herself returning to the meeting, nagging herself over it, nitpicking at the what ifs.

Ikuna drained her drink and slumped to the floor, feeling the usual drunken tingle in her face. She bobbed her head around, taking in her surroundings. Herbs grew in baskets to be used in salves and teas. Purple orchids grew as a symbol for the childhood she never experienced. A box of sunflowers grew in memory of the lives lost in the human world explosions decades ago. And there was ivy.

Ivy for affection, fidelity, and friendship. Ivy for the very vines that covered the hideout of the great demon fox who pillaged towns and strongholds for only the most legendary of treasures. Ivy for a time when Ikuna allowed herself to belong to another, if only for a few breathless moments in the night. Ivy for a time when she was nearly in love.

She let her head drop back against the sliding glass door and stared into the changing sky. Golds turned to oranges turned to reds turned to pinks, and then finally the deep violet of night crept in. The neighborhood fell quiet. Henry lay curled in her lap. Ikuna began to drift off.

The door buzzer sounded and Ikuna started, shattering her glass in her grip. She cursed, gingerly stepping around the broken shards and through the sliding door. She pressed the intercom button like Kurama showed her, holding her bleeding hand away from her.

"This is Ikuna."

"It's… Keiko Yukimura," the intercom said, "I, um, brought something for you."

Ikuna blinked and pressed the button that allows entry to the building. A few moments later, a knock sounded against the door. She opened it, "Good evening," she said, hiding her injured hand behind her, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Keiko stood before her with a paper bag clutched to her chest, "Um…" she focused her eyes into Ikuna's with determination, "When we were on the beach at Genkai's, you mentioned that you had just bought clothes for the first time that day."

Ikuna thought back to the dreaded walk with the ladies that Kurama had _insisted_ she go on. She wasn't aware that they had actually listened to her talk. She had resigned to trailing behind them, listening to their chatter over the waves and chiming in now and then when there was an opening in the conversation.

"I… I did say that, didn't I?" Ikuna pushed the door open wider.

"Well…" Keiko studied Ikuna's womanly figure, draped in a loose yukata, "I brought you some of my old clothes. I don't think they'll all fit you since, well—you know—we're probably different sizes, but I hope you'll be able to use some of them so you won't have to wear street clothes all the time."

Ikuna had, in fact, been alternating between wearing her new street clothes and wearing her one yukata, and although the yukata had been comfortable, it was a hassle to dress into in her current state. She had forgone wearing kimonos all together.

Ikuna released a breath she wasn't aware of holding, "Yes! I will happily accept your clothes!" she exclaimed, clutching her hands to her chest.

Keiko recoiled, "Oh my gosh! You're bleeding!"

"Oh!" Ikuna cupped her wound and inspected her now soiled clothes, "Oh, dear I'd forgotten about that…"

Keiko knelt while she wrapped Ikuna's hand the old cloth bandages that she found in the apartment. The silence between them was thick, suffocating even. Ikuna opened her mouth to speak—

"I love Yusuke," Keiko said suddenly.

Ikuna clamped her mouth shut and listened.

"I mean…" Keiko stumbled for a moment, wrapping the bandage tighter, "I know you're probably a good person. Kurama wouldn't be friends with you if you weren't. It's just that… I love Yusuke, and watching you fawn over him like that, well…" she trailed off and looked directly into Ikuna's eyes, "It made me really jealous. And that's not the kind of person I am. Or, at least, that's not who I want to be," she tied the bandage off and became interested in her hands folded in her lap, "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for the way I treated you. I hope we can be friends."

Ikuna's face split into a grin, "Oh, Keiko, dear, of course we can be friends!" she pulled her into a tight embrace, "I didn't mean anything be it, honest! I can't help my fondness for young people!"

Keiko pulled back, "Ms. Ikuna, you smell like alcohol!"

"I'm going to go try on my new clothes right now! Keiko, dear, will you wait and tell me what you think?"

"Oh, sure," she replied reluctantly.

"Wonderful!" Ikuna rose and shambled towards her bedroom.

Keiko stood quickly when she noticed Ikuna's awkward gait, "Hey, are you okay?" she asked, reaching towards her.

Ikuna waved her off, "Yes, yes, I've just been a bit peckish. Haven't eaten in a few weeks, you see."

"Oh, uh, I can make you something to eat, if you'd like," Keiko made her way into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She grimaced, "Um, do you have any food?"

"Ohhh? Kurama issues you my home address, but fails to inform you that I feed only on the succulent life energy of humans—," _and the occasional plant._ Ikuna pressed a finger to her upturned lips, "My, my, he really does trust me, doesn't he?" she continued into her bedroom, leaving Keiko in the kitchen, refrigerator door still held ajar by her jittering hand.

"H-How did you know Kurama gave me your address?" she finally squeaked out.

"Darling, where else would you have learned it," Ikuna poked her head out of the doorway, "That boy has been the sole bearer to the knowledge of my whereabouts. Oh, please relax, dear. I promise I won't eat you. Even if I did, you wouldn't know it. You'd think it was all a dirty dream."

Keiko fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, "That's reassuring," She steadied her racing heart before looking around Ikuna's apartment for the first time. A single teacup and an electric kettle sat in one corner of the sparse kitchen. Empty whiskey bottles dotted the counter top, and Keiko had noticed a lone leftover sandwich half and a bottle of orange juice in the refrigerator (couldn't be Ikuna's). The living room looked somewhat homier with its couch and table. A bookcase and armchair sat in the corner, next to the only window. Keiko wandered to the books, old tomes mixed with a few university books. Dusty texts like _History of Medicinal Plants_ , _A Complete Field Guide to Japanese Flora_ , and an old, faded copy of the Japanese epic _Nansō Satomi Hakkenden_ were mixed in with new, pristine books such as _21st Century Chemistry_ and a dog-earred _Global Collection of Erotic Poems_ …?

"Some of those are Kurama's."

"Oh!" Keiko jumped and spun around, "Ms. Ikuna, you scared me!"

Ikuna covered her mouth and chuckled, "Please just call me Ikuna, or even Iku for short."

"Uh, maybe just Ikuna, then…"

"So," she held her arms out, "What do you think? I'm not entirely clear on the situation in which I would wear this, but I must say that it is a comfortable costume, and easy to dress into."

She stood before Keiko wearing a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt that read "Dai-ichi Women's Volleyball."

"Well, they're lazy clothes," Keiko answered, smiling to herself.

Ikuna crossed her arms and curled a finger on her chin, "Lazy clothes?"

"You know, for relaxing in your house. Or you could do housework in them. Or sleep in them, even. They're just clothes that you wear to be comfortable, not to be seen in."

"I wouldn't wear these in public?"

"No, well, sure you could, but—"

"Are there other categories of clothing?"

Keiko paused, "Huh?"

"Types. Classifications," Ikuna pressed on, a growing intensity burning in her big brown eyes, "What other clothing styles are there and when is it most suitable to wear each of them?"

"Did… Did Kurama not go over this with you?" Keiko asked, taken aback by Ikuna's ignorance of fashion despite her having been so well dressed when they first met.

"He informed me about the displaced appearance of my kimonos and bought me a bra."

"O-Oh! Okay, um… Well, I guess I can start with pajamas."

 **End Chapter 3**

* * *

Noodle Note: Hey, thanks for the read! Thank you to all new followers and reviewers. I'm glad that you are enjoying the story so far, and I'll try to update at least once a week.

Can we take a minute to talk about Kurama helping Ikuna shop for a bra, though? I like to imagine him standing outside, trying to keep his cool as women walk by and whisper about the handsome pervert outside of the panty store.

P.S. _Iku_ is slang for sexual climax. Just thought I should let you know.

See you next chapter.


	4. 4

**Running Together**

Chapter 4: In the Apartment

* * *

Ikuna pressed a button on the remote in her hand. A light flashed red, but nothing happened to the glass box on the floor in front of her. She riffled through the instruction pamphlet. There were televisions in the Makai, of course, but Ikuna had never installed one before. She sat in front of her television set, legs crossed in her new pajama shorts and sweater. She studied the page, glancing from the diagram to the remote, identifying buttons one by one. She tried another button—the one she identified as the POWER button—and the television flicked on with a snap and sizzle. The screen buzzed with black and white static, but Ikuna was pleased with herself for figuring out the set up.

Before Keiko left her apartment a few days prior, she had suggested that Ikuna make the purchase of a television in order to absorb more modern human behaviors and mannerisms. When Kurama returned from his classes later that day, Ikuna relayed Keiko's recommendation to him, and he agreed enthusiastically. Today was the day it was supposed to be delivered, but they hadn't expected it to arrive until the afternoon when Kurama would be available to help.

Yet here Ikuna was, triumphantly flipping through the channels without his help. News channels, game shows, shopping network, a cartoon channel. She didn't sign up for cable, settling on the free channels she would receive through the TV antenna. Henry slumped down to the floor on his side, pressing his head and back against Ikuna's folded legs and drifting to sleep. She wouldn't be moving to the couch anytime soon, not that she could muster the energy.

In truth, she was stuck on the floor, with barely the vigor to sit up straight. The plant she had absorbed didn't sustain her for more than the past few days, and she was left feeling empty and groggy, hands trembling with the slightest movement. The very thought of walking out to the balcony to tend to the garden was daunting, the task of moving to the couch seeming impossible. Ikuna laid back onto the floor and stroked Henry with a shaky hand, breathing deeply from the exertion. She wondered what would happen if she simply didn't eat. How long would she remain conscious before her body quietly shut down and ceased all functions? She had felt hunger before, but starvation was a feeling unfamiliar to her. Even when the Makai barrier was erected and Ikuna had to stop consuming human vitality, a foolish demon was only a sweet whisper and a wink away. However, here in the Nigenkai—where "mischief against humans" was a serious crime—sustainable, _legal_ sustenance was scarce. Ikuna closed her eyes, finding relief in the possibility of a nap. She'd left her whisky on the tea table, just out of reach of an outstretched hand, so sleep will have to suffice as comfort for now. The television muttered in the quiet air, and Ikuna's thoughts began to float off…

The door unlatched and opened. Ikuna started awake and rolled her head to call out a tired greeting to Kurama.

"Ikuna?" he appeared from around the couch, and spotted her. He stooped to help her up, "What are you doing on the floor? Did you get stuck?"

"Yes," Ikuna leaned into him, "but, look. I set up the television all on my own."

Kurama's gaze turned to regard her work, "Why, yes you did," he smiled, "You didn't need my help at all, did you?" He lifted her into his arms and helped her to the couch. Henry hopped up next to her and curled up in her lap again, "Henry knows that you aren't well," he said.

Ikuna laid her head back and stroked Henry. She saw Kurama note the unsteadiness of her hand, but thankfully he didn't say anything. She could see the gears turning in his mind, looking for answers, any solution to her fading vitality.

"Where is your mind, my love?"

His eyes refocused to reality, and he turned a reassuring smile to her. "It's nothing, Onna," he handed her whiskey glass to her and stood, "You know, I think your hair looks lovely when you leave it down."

"I wanted to blend in," she ran her fingers through the length of her ebony waves, "And I haven't been able to bother much with it, quite frankly."

She watched Kurama stride into the kitchen quietly and make himself a cup of tea. She wondered how long he would spend contemplating the predicament of her nutrition before he finally either gave up or offered himself to her.

Back in their time of thievery, he had threatened that if she so much as toyed with his dreams, he would snuff her out of existence before she knew what was happening. Borrowing energy from him was a death sentence. Instead, she fed on the prisoners and insubordinates her served to her, using her as a punishment for others who would otherwise oppose him. Still, every few nights or so one could find her lurking in the shadows of his dreams, witnessing his inner desires and fears.

The human Kurama rested on the other end of the couch with his tea, "I brought a book for you to read," he said picking through his bag, "It's actually about you."

Ikuna chuckled lightly, "Is it really? It's not that dreadful _Yuki-Onna_ story, is it? I've always hated that version. They told nearly half of the story wrong," she took the small volume into her delicate hands and studied it.

"It's a collection of tales and legends from around the world about succubae. The Yuki-Onna story is in there, of course, as well as Qarinah, Rakshiki…"

"I've really gotten around, haven't I?" Ikuna fingered the embossing on the cover.

"You've lived a long time," Kurama pulled his own textbooks out of his bag, "I thought you would be interested in what the masses were saying about your handiwork."

"You know I do love gossip," she said cheekily. Kurama could see a bit of color coming back to her cheeks. As he thought, at least a small part of her fatigue was due to lack of stimulation. She flipped open the cover and became absorbed in its pages.

Kurama found himself studying her form, much the same way as he did so many years ago. Her legs curled under her hips, slender milky white folded one over the other. Her arms draped over her knees, holding the paperback aloft in front of her long, thin nose. The rich glimmer of her hair spilled over her shoulders, and her dark eyes caught the sunlight in just the right way that they shone a warm cinnamon before flitting back to the other side of the page, returning to deep brown again.

In many ways this moment felt like the first time he had seen her. In the days past she had always been made up, full kimono, and hair piled high with decoration… Even when he had untied her kimono's obi all those times past, she still had her face and horns painted.

And here she was, in a hand-me-down sweater and shorts, not a stitch of makeup on her. Her horns protruded from the ridge of her head, completely bare and holding her hair from her face. Somehow this woman was different from the one he once knew. Onna—who named herself Ikuna in this life—was comfortable in her natural state, throwing her trained formalities and decoration to the wind.

Kurama remembered an excursion long ago where she had become enamored by a hairpin owned by a hunter's wife. She had almost died that day trying to snatch it right out of the wife's hair. Her obsession had almost cost her life, and now here she was, obsessed with… What exactly? Why is she starving herself?

"Darling…"

Kurama started back to reality. He seemed to be becoming more and more engrossed in thought these days, "Yes, Onna?"

Ikuna let her book rest in her lap, "You were burning holes into me," She watched Kurama settle back into the couch with his textbook, "I know the difference between lustful and distracted staring, you know."

"Heh. You've caught me. I was thinking about how much you've changed in the short time that you've been in the human world."

Ikuna shot him a sideways look, "That's not all, is there?"

Kurama sighed, letting the façade drop, "Onna, why aren't you eating?"

"Ahhh, so we are going to argue today."

"Why are you set on letting yourself die?"

Ikuna stiffened at the words. She fixed her gaze to the floor, "I…" she searched for the right words. Her death had always been something that they danced around, "It's something inevitable. It will come upon me, and I'll accept it," she said slowly, still gathering her thoughts, "I would rather let myself slip away than take a life."

"Why?"

"Because…" _I have so many reasons that even_ I _couldn't begin to understand,_ she thought to herself, "I'm in the Nagenkai, now. I have to play by the Nagenkai rules. There's nothing for me in the Makai. I'm in a strange new world with some strange new friends, and I have learned so much, but the people I have learned from… Kurama, humans are just so fragile. They worry, they love, they act without abandon, and I have before so easily crushed them between my teeth, and thought nothing of it. It has been so long since I've tasted the life of a human that I've nearly forgotten what it's like. Taking someone's friend or son or lover does not seem worth it anymore."

Kurama's eyebrows knitted together, "There are bound to be demons that come here to break the law. You can feed from them. There are truly evil humans that wouldn't be missed."

Ikuna chuckled and stroked a lock of hair from his eyes, "Vigilantism doesn't suit us, my love."

"Neither does wasting a life for an ideal."

"'Suicide is never the answer. There is neither honor, nor redemption in that,'" she quoted ruefully. She looked directly into his eyes, watching his own words sink into him. She knew that _he_ knew she didn't believe them.

Ikuna leaned back into the arm of the couch to continue reading, and rested her legs onto the tea table, signaling the end of the conversation.

Kurama swallowed and settled onto the floor in front of the tea table to study.

"Onna."

"Yes," she sighed.

"This isn't over, yet."

She laughed ruefully, "I'm certain that it never will be."

 **End Chapter 4**

* * *

Noodle Note: As always, thank you for the read, and the new followers and favorites. It makes me so happy that you all love this story so much and want to keep going. I remember back in my day as a high schooler I would eagerly await new chapters for my favorite Harvest Moon fanfictions... Ah, youth.

Fun fact, orchids are both incredibly easy and incredibly difficult to take care of, but Ikuna with her plant mama powers has it down to a science. Unfortunately, I wrote her orchids to be sitting on the porch instead of inside out of direct sunlight, so I probably killed hers just like I killed mine.

See you next chapter.


	5. 5

**Running Together**

5: In the Apartment...

* * *

Ikuna noticed that she hadn't heard a cicada's cry in days.

She sat on the balcony with Henry, taking in the afternoon sunlight. She could feel the warm glow of life within her—another plant. As it stood, she had an orchid left, the pots of some other four cleaned and stacked in a corner. She stroked Henry's fur, contemplating what to do with her new burst of energy. For one thing, she'd like to move her remaining orchid inside so it didn't die from the cool evening temperatures. Out of all of the ones she had collected, the yellow butterfly orchid collected on her first day in the human world was her favorite. There had been, sitting on a shop table amongst its cloud-white brothers and sisters, a spot of sunshine gold in fresh snow. Ikuna had felt that she could use that sort of positivity at the time.

She stood carefully, testing her strength before committing to a walk to the kitchen for a drink to start off the day. Henry padded behind her, addressing her with imploring mreows for his breakfast. Ikuna peaked over her shoulder at him with a smile.

"Pardon me, sir. I have regrettably neglected your bowl. Allow me to rectify that," she said in a stiff butler's manner before retrieving Henry's food from the pantry. Henry rubbed his face against her legs and curled his tail around her in agreement. He began gobbling up his food the moment the first kibble sounded in the bowl. "My, you've gotten fat since I took you in, haven't you? We can call that 'love weight,'" she patted his head and leaned against the counter with her glass.

The apartment furnishings were rather sparse when she first moved in, with only a bed, a couch, and various treasures piled into a corner. Now, her home gave off a more welcoming air. She added a pillow and throw blanket to her armchair in the corner, and christened it a "reading nook"—though she rarely used it. A rug lay on the living room floor in front of a new TV console table, and more throw pillows speckled the couch. She even bought a chest of drawers for her bedroom to hold her new clothes. However, due to her depleted state the passed few days, the apartment had fallen into a state of disarray. The aforementioned pillows were scattered about the floor in places where Ikuna had gotten stuck in a state of fatigue. Bottles were scattered everywhere, and she knew that her bedroom was a warzone of clothes splayed about.

Ikuna took a contemplative sip as she surveyed the apartment, "Well, Henry…" she identified things that needed cleaning, tidying, straightening, organizing, "I suppose the first thing I should do is… check my messages," she hurriedly turned her attention to the small table in the otherwise empty dining area. Resting atop the table—as if on a pedestal—sat a telephone, purchased at Kurama's request. A red light blinked urgently, and Ikuna knew that listening to this message was far more important than tidying up. If it weren't an important matter, the caller wouldn't have left a message.

" _Good morning, Onna, it's Kurama_ ," the message played.

"I know your voice, you fool," Ikuna replied to the machine.

" _I'm sure you've slept in again from the fatigue, but I wanted to let you know that I won't be over for the next few days—"_

"Goodness, you only visit once every few days anyways! No need to tell me," she interjected impatiently.

 _"—I'll be spending time with my family and studying for a few exams, but if you need anything, please don't hesitate to call me. My phone number is—_ "

"Ah!" Ikuna fumbled for a pen to scribble his number down, "Damn, what were the last few numbers? I missed them. Are these middle numbers correct? How do I play the message over again?" She stared at the machine for a moment, "I should just be able to rewind the tape, right?" she pressed the rewind button and waited a moment. The rewind halted, and she pressed play.

" _Yes, Ms. Ikuna, this is your landlord_ —"

"Damn! This message is from three whole days ago. Maybe if I just…"

A few minutes later, a cloud of cassette tape was balled up on top of the machine, weaving itself up and around the phone receiver and wires. Ikuna stared at the mess. She stared hard.

"Henry?"

Henry padded up, "Mreow?"

"Kurama is going to skin me."

Henry rubbed himself against her leg.

"Right, then. New plan," Ikuna turned her back to the telephone machine and, again, surveyed the apartment. She huffed, taking in the mess, "I should take a bath," she said and wandered into the bathroom to heat up the water.

Ikuna relaxed against the back of the tub and closed her eyes. The silence in the air was a little overwhelming, but there wasn't very much she could do about that now that she was sunken into the heat of the water. Her thoughts lingered on the mess just outside the doorway. Although she preferred keeping a clean space, the actual process of cleaning was not a task that she was used to performing. In days before, there were little concubines in training to care to that for her. Now that she was fortunate enough to have her own solitary space, the house keeping fell to her.

"Perhaps I could hire a maid," she said to no one in particular, "I have the means. I am accustomed to the prying eyes of servants. A human maid would think nothing of my life style if I told her that I was a scholar who studied at home and ate primarily at restaurants. Yes, that could work. Although… It would be more truthful if I admitted to being a prostitute starving herself, wouldn't it?" she laid her head on her folding arms.

"I'm surprised that boy even bothers studying, what with that brilliant mind of his. Perhaps it's for his mother's sake," she sank into the water, restless with her isolation. Kurama would be away for another few days. While he only visited twice a week or so, Ikuna was taken aback by how dependent she had become on his company. Her plans for relocating had included long days spent in thought and quiet contentment. Her plans did not include being nannied by an old friend.

Ikuna again found herself shifting in the bath, "What on earth is the matter with me? Am I bored? Perhaps I have too many options on what to do with my day," she sat up. She found that sitting up straight helped her mind work on difficult matters more efficiently, "I haven't watered my plants today. And I really should toss out that orchid I ate earlier before it rots. I wanted to bring the last orchid inside and arrange it nicely on the tea table, and I could at the very least toss out all those bottles and move the pillows back to where they belong," she nodded fervently to herself, "Yes, indeed, and then I can get dressed into daytime clothing and go out! Perhaps I can study how the women of today do their makeup. The last time I was out, I saw some advertisements about it. There must be a woman somewhere who could teach me. Yes! And tomorrow I can straighten up all the clothing I have in my bedroom. I saw on television that there are machines that can clean them automatically. I can inquire about one. Yes,"

Ikuna clenched her fists in front of her in a very unladylike fashion, "Yes, I have a plan. I, the succubus known as Ikuna have faced far ghastlier circumstances. A little light cleaning will be nothing to me."

Ikuna found herself sitting on the couch watching television. _Didn't I have a list of things to do? I really should start those chores, now. Ah, but my program is on. Who could have ever known that human hospitals held so much drama?_ A nurse flitted across the screen, and Ikuna's eyes bulged at the complicated braid draped over her petite shoulders.

"Beautiful!" she exclaimed, "That hairstyle is exquisite! I must have it! I should replicate it with haste, lest it disappear from my memory." She disappeared into the bathroom, and came back out lugging the previously wall-mounted mirror in her arms. She set it down against the tea table and began combing her hair with deft fingers, intertwining ebony locks over and under and around each other as her eyes flicked from the mirror to the television screen, scanning for another glimpse of the nurse.

By the time she was finished, her hair hung in a loose braid over her shoulder, however she wasn't quite satisfied.

"Perhaps I should cut my hair," she said aloud. Henry lazily lifted his head and yawned, "What do you think, my pet? I could cut some fringe down to my brow, instead of using my horns to keep that hair back from my face. Maybe I could dye my horns, again… Say, what time is it?" She flipped the channel to the news and waited for the ticker in the corner to announce the hour, "Ah… four o'clock already. It still feels so early to me, yet I only awoke from bed a few hours ago… I suppose I am running out of time to go shopping, then. I ought to take care of that before night falls. Chores can always wait."

 **End Chapter 5**

* * *

Noodle Note: Thanks you for making it this far.

Answering machines originally recorded their messages on little cassette tapes. This could be a severe pain in the ass if you ever needed to find information from a previous message—especially if you don't really "get" technology. I'm sure some of you guys are thinking "Uh, yeah, I get it," but I know some of you guys are also fourteen. Look up pictures of 90's answering machines if you're curious!

I appreciate the reviews! I love chatting with people. The next chapter is set to be a long one, so thank you for reading and I'll see you next chapter.


	6. 6

**Running Together**

Chapter 6: In the Apartment...

* * *

The apartment was dark, and Ikuna was alone.

Out of the apartment:

"So we're in agreement, then?" Botan clapped her hands together, "We're going to a karaoke bar to celebrate you passing your exams! I'm so excited. I've always wanted to go to one!"

"I was hoping we could settle on something low-cost, but if you're so bent on going I guess we kinda have to, huh?" Yusuke said begrudgingly.

Kurama stood by quietly, smiling and listening to his friends banter. It was typical of him to sit back and take in the conversation when it came to the small moments like this. He preferred saving it all to memory.

It had been a busy week for the three of them who went to university. Shizuru said that Kuwabara had hardly left his desk, and Yusuke had taken over helping at the Yukimura Diner to allow Keiko more time for her own studies. Kurama had settled in with his stepbrother, alternating between helping him with his classwork and reviewing his own material. In the end, all three of them received passing marks.

And now here he stood, near a fountain in the middle of town square, Botan making plans for celebration—a chance to cut loose she said. Kurama didn't mind going out. It was something that he would do on his own, but he relished the opportunity to spend time with his friends—more so when the opportunity didn't include world-threatening danger.

"We could go to that one down on C Street," Kuwabara rasped in his gravel-road voice, "Me and the guys used to go there all the time in high school."

"I think that one closed down, little bro," Shizuru said, "What about that one on the corner of 68 and F?"

Keiko grimaced, "Isn't that the one next to a host club?"

Kurama's mind began to wonder off. Ikuna hadn't returned his call. While she was once prone to long stints of radio silence, it might be cause for concern in her present health. He recalled a time during grade seven when he sent messages to her regarding the state of the demon world and spirit world politics, only to receive no reply for the duration of the year. It wasn't until the start of grade eight that he had found an origami butterfly set upon his pillow in his home. When he'd delicately unfolded it, a mist of Ikuna's perfume rose from the paper like a dragon, and upon first breath of the scent, Kurama was transported to a dreamland of rivers and flowering trees. Ikuna's handiwork. In the dream, she was dressed in a black kimono with goldfish and red flowers embroidered into the fabric. Her robes fluttered around her in the grass as she sat under a cherry blossom tree, reading a book.

"Do you like it?" she had said in the dream, "I save this place for special occasions. Sit, and I will tell you all that you would like to know."

Kurama couldn't speak, only listen as her specter divulged in raids and wars and the feud between the three kingdoms in the Makai. The blossoms fell from the trees around her, settling into the pins in her hair. They would have vanished when he tried to glance at them.

When he had woke from the dream, he was still sitting on his bed, the butterfly rendered to embers in his hands, and Ikuna's perfume faded into the floor and walls. The absence of her scent felt stronger than the aroma itself.

"Hey, Kurama, you coming?"

Kurama glanced up and met Yusuke's eyes, "Sorry, I was just thinking about something."

"Well, save your spacing out for when we get to the bar. C'mon," Yusuke threw him an easy smile over his shoulder, "The hard part's all over."

Kurama smiled back, and followed behind his friends. Still, he felt a nagging worry.

"Aren't we passing by Ikuna's apartment building, Kurama?" Keiko asked.

Kuwabara whistled, "She lives in a fancy neighborhood like this? What kind of work is she into? Sales?"

Yusuke threw a sideways smirk at Kurama, "If she's one of Fox-Boy's old pals, I'd bet on theft."

Kurama startled laughed, "Yes, well, we did have our share of adventures. I assume she was able to keep most of her earnings."

"Oh, you can see her plant garden right up there on the seventh floor," Keiko said, pointing to a tumble of ivy protruding from one of the balconies.

"Looks more like an overgrowth to me," Shizuru stated coolly.

"I have an idea!" Botan exclaimed, "Why don't we invite her down to join us? Any friend of Kurama's is a friend of ours, right?" She turned to look at the others individually, "Right?" she asked again, sensing the discomfort.

"Yeah, about that… Most of us didn't exactly get off on the right foot with Ikuna," Yusuke said, glancing at Keiko. Keiko shook her head.

"No, it's fine. I think she comes off as a lot to handle at first, but she's actually really nice. I just don't think she knows how to make real friends."

Everyone looked to Kurama for confirmation.

"Ah, yes, well," he started nervously, "Truthfully, I can't say I remember how we became friends. She more or less just appeared one day. As for her manners, well… She was a courtesan for most of the time I have known her."

"Ah, so she just acts like a hooker because that's all she's used to," Yusuke joked.

"I… wouldn't put it so bluntly."

"I mean if Keiko's cool with her, she can't be all that bad," Kuwabara shrugged, "Even if she did say you dress like a man, sis."

Shizuru sighed, "Well, I guess it can't be helped. Let's bring the little hooker out to play."

 _I really wish they would change their verbiage,_ Kurama though, smiling despite himself. Truthfully, he was glad that they were willing to include Ikuna so readily after such a poor first impression.

"Hey, Ikuna! Come out to play!" Botan shouted up to the apartment.

"Yeah, girly, get out here and come party!"

"Ikuna! We miss you! Come join us!"

"Ikunaaaa!"

A form staggered out from the darkness of the apartment.

"There she is!" Yusuke beamed, "You coming out with us or what?"

"Yes, Onna, come out with us," Kurama called up, "We would love to have your company!"

"Ha! I afraid I'll have to decline, my darlings," she called down from the dark. Kurama felt a pang of alarm at the strain he could hear in Ikuna's words, "I would love to, but I'll join you on the next outing. You all go on ahead."

Botan worried her lip, "Does she usually sound so ghastly?"

"She didn't sound bad when I came to see her a couple weeks ago," Keiko clutched a hand to her breast, "Kurama, you've been visiting her, too, right?"

Kurama shook his head gravely, eyes trained on the wavering form of Ikuna's shadowed body, "I'm afraid I haven't been by to see her this week. She certainly wasn't this frail when I last came by."

The group fell silent for a moment, unsure of whether to leave by Ikuna's request when,

" _Mreow_."

Kuwabara's breath caught.

"Ah, Henry," Ikuna murmured. Henry hopped up on the balcony rail and rubbed his face against her tilted head.

"She has a kitty?" Kuwabara squealed.

"So, Kazuma's gonna want to visit," Shizuru stated flatly.

"We can go in for just a second," he said eagerly, "To check on Ikuna and stuff," he added.

"I think that's a wonderful idea!" Botan said, "Keiko? Yusuke?"

"Sure!" Keiko nodded.

"Yeah, I'm down," Yusuke said.

"I'm sure she would be happy to see some friendly faces," Kurama said warmly.

"Alright, then. Lead the way, Fox-Boy."

Kurama turned back towards the apartment, cupping his hands around his mouth, "Onna, we're coming up to visit!" he called.

"Oh! Uh…" Ikuna hesitated, "Well, let me tidy up, then," she called back down and staggered back into the apartment.

Kurama knocked on the door, "Onna, we're here." They waited. Kurama heard Ikuna's voice muffled by the door, but he couldn't quite make out what she was saying. Henry meowed just inside.

"Oh dear, not again," he sighed, "I was hoping I could keep this to myself, but..." He produced his copy of Ikuna's apartment key from his pocket and unlocked the door.

"Ooh, your old lady got you a key, huh? That for late night visits?" Kuwabara teased.

"And this is why I would have preferred you didn't know I had one."

"Hey, you're the one flashing apartment keys," Yusuke elbowed him with a sly grin. Kurama rolled his eyes and opened the door.

The apartment was in a complete state of disarray. Pillows were piled up on different spots of the floor, different books lay open on different surfaces, and empty bottles and drinking glasses were tipped over here and there. Kurama could see a cloud of cassette tape spilling over the answering machine. _That explains why she hasn't called,_ he thought to himself. And by the balcony door, Ikuna sat leaned against the wall, whether that was a smile or a grimace on her face, Kurama couldn't be sure. He went to her.

"Welcome to my home," she stammered.

"Jeez, you have a party for one in here?" Yusuke asked dryly, stepping over a small pile of clothes, "Reminds me of my mom's place."

"Yes, something like that," Ikuna labored, gripping onto Kurama's hand as he helped her up. He held one hand to her shoulder to steady her as he led her to the couch, "Thank you, love," she said, brushing a bit of Kurama's hair from his face, "It is a pleasure to see you all again. Botan, you're looking well."

"Oh! I knew I recognized you!" Botan trotted over to the couch and sat next to her, "Yuki-Onna! Oh it is wonderful to see you again. So you go by Ikuna, now?"

"Whoa, so you guys know each other?" Yusuke asked, taking a seat amongst the pillows on the floor.

"Well of course, silly! I do deal in the business of death and dying, after all, and Yuki—I mean, Ikuna was one of my top soul-mongers!"

"Told you she was in sales," Kuwabara muttered.

Botan turned back to Ikuna, "We used to chat in the snow when I was picking up souls. Oh, I remember it as if it were yesterday. I haven't seen you since the Kekkai barrier went up, how have you been?"

"Hungry," Ikuna joked lightly, "But wonderful now that I'm here among the humans. They're so fascinating."

"Aren't they?" Botan and Ikuna smiled warmly at each other. Ikuna shifted to look passed Botan.

"Oh, Keiko dear, you really don't have to do that!"

Keiko froze, empty bottles crowded together in her arms, "Well, I mean I thought since we were here and you weren't feeling well, the least we could do is help clean up a little."

"No, it's fine, really. Kurama usually does the cleaning—" Kurama shot a look at Ikuna "—Come sit down with us."

Shizuru looked from one side of the apartment to the other, "I'm kind of with Keiko on this one. There isn't anywhere to sit without knocking some bottles out of the way. I can smoke in here, right?" She lit a cigarette and began collecting glasses.

"I'll have to insist that you at least let me offer you a drink or two for your troubles," Ikuna pleaded.

"Onna," Kurama said, inspecting a bottle on the table, "I think you drank it all."

"Yes, well…" Ikuna turned and pointed to her bedroom, "Yusuke, be a lamb and fetch my wallet from the dresser?"

"Uh, sure," he said. After a moment he poked his head out from the bedroom, "Is it this old flowery thing with the string?"

"I will have you know that I stole that 'old flowery thing with the string' directly from Tokugawa Ieyasu's pocket while he watched the enthronement of Emperor Go-Mizunoo back in 1611," Ikuna said haughtily.

 _She seems much more lively with company_ , Kurama thought with a smile.

Yusuke returned with the wallet and passed it off to Ikuna

"Here," she said holding out a couple bills to Yusuke, "Run down to the market on the corner and pick up a few bottles for the group. Botan, do you still prefer ale? And some beer, too, Yusuke."

Yusuke stared at the bills in his hand, "While I would usually pick a fight about being someone's errand boy, you realize you just handed me like ¥20,000, right?"

Ikuna stared at him blankly, "Yes?"

"I mean, are you looking to get enough alcohol for an army here, or do you just not know how much liquor actually costs?"

Ikuna crossed her arms, "You can pay for it yourself, if you'd like."

"Alright, I'm going," Yusuke turned to the door.

"I'll come with you," offered Shizuru, following him to the door, "I need another pack of smokes, anyways. Kazuma!"

Kuwabara poked his head up from behind the couch, "What?"

"Quit playing with the cat and help with the cleaning, would ya?"

Kuwabara stood and grumbled on his way to the kitchen as Yusuke and Shizuru left.

"Between you and me, Kazuma," Ikuna said, "Henry's winter coat is starting to come in, and he hasn't had a good brushing in a while."

"Aw hell yeah, I'm on it!" he said enthusiastically.

Ikuna sat back, and looked around her. Botan had gotten up to help Keiko straighten up the kitchen, and Kurama pulled his hair into a tail to pick up discarded clothing and pillows. Kuwabara located the brush and settled down with Henry. It was the most activity that she had ever seen in her little apartment, and she quite enjoyed it.

Kurama arranged the pillows on the couch, "I should have come to check on you," he said quietly, "And I should have known that you would have too much trouble with the phone."

"To my credit, it was the answering machine that I fought with, not the telephone," Ikuna corrected him stiffly. She softened and reached out to still Kurama's busy hands, "And to your credit, you did exactly what you needed to do. How were your exams?"

Kurama crouched in front of her, letting her trace the lines of his palm, "I did satisfactory on them."

"Top of your class, again, eh?"

"Heh. Japanese Literature gave me a bit of trouble, I'm afraid. I was only second. University has a broader diversity of minds than high school."

"You could have called me. I would have answered and given you some help if you needed it."

Kurama cupped her hand gently, "Onna," he held her gaze, "You would have likely broken the phone."

Ikuna gasped in mock offense. Kurama's face split into a grin, "Why you—" she burst into a fit of laughter and slapped him playfully, "Always teasing me. Anyways, I should go change my clothes. Now that I have guests, I should wear something more appropriate."

Kurama's eyes fell on her milky white legs uncurling from under her to stand.

"Oh, you shouldn't," Keiko said from the kitchen. She held a soapy glass over the sink, "We can get out of your hair when we're finished."

"Bah!" Ikuna said, rising, a hand on Kurama's shoulder to steady herself, "Why not just stay here? It's cheaper to drink at home. Yusuke and Shizuru are already out to purchase some alcohol, so please relax. I haven't had any real guests, yet," Kurama furrowed his brows at her, "Oh, you know you don't count," she said dismissively.

"Do you need any help changing, Ikuna?" Botan asked.

"That would make the process a bit faster," Ikuna replied, already winded from the few steps she's taken, "I hate to be a burden, but standing really takes it out of me."

"Nonsense! Let's get you cleaned up!" Botan took her arm and led her into the bedroom.

Kurama stood, watching the two disappear behind the bedroom door

 **End Chapter 6**

* * *

NoodleNote: This ended up being one looooooong chapter, so I took the liberty of breaking it up into two. That way you have something to look forward to, and I have more time to write. See what I did there? Brilliance.

Anyways, thank you so much as always for reading and hello to all of the new story followers! If you like this, drop me a comment and tell me why! Or tell me what you wish I would work on. I'm not picky.

Kurama does a lot of chuckling. Some might call him a chucklehead.

Okay, see you next chapter.

P.S. I drew what I imagine Ikuna to look like by this point. No kimono or complicated hairstyles, but she still loves the drama of a deep plunging neckline. It's on my Tumblr, and I'll be sure to link it in my profile!


	7. 7

**Running Together**

Chapter 7: In the Apartment...

* * *

"You know," Keiko said, "it's kind of fun watching you talk to her."

"Who?" Kurama asked, turning to her.

"Ikuna, silly," she said, drying a glass, "I don't know. We don't usually see you talking so freely. You're kinda formal, even with us."

"Is that so?" Kurama looked back to the bedroom door. He could hear Botan and Ikuna's chattering, "She's a very old friend of mine. We ran in the same thieves' clan. I daresay that I've been through more with her than I have even with our friends now."

"I can imagine. Tokugawa, isn't he the shogun who started the Edo period?"

"He is."

"Wow. So, she's really lived a long time, then, huh?"

Kurama strode into the kitchen to help Keiko dry the few dishes that Ikuna owned, "Indeed. When I first met her, people were calling her Yuki-Onna."

"The Snow Woman? So, that really was her?" Keiko shivered.

Kurama chuckled, "You can ask her more about that yourself. We were a bit ruthless in our younger days."

"That's why you call her 'Onna,' then. Instead of Ikuna?"

"She changed her name depending on legend and where she was. She was Yuki-Onna when I met her," Kurama thought for a moment, "I suppose in a way, it's a sort become a nickname I use for her."

"I get it," Keiko said. She stacked the last glass, "Well, I think that's everything."

"It appears so," Kurama agreed, "I haven't seen the kitchen look this clean since she moved in," he said with a light laugh. The door burst open.

"Santa came early this year, ladies and gents!" Yusuke cried with gusto, "A stay-in-party is my kinda party," He and Shizuru entered the apartment carrying brown paper bags stuffed with the clinking of bottles and crinkling of wrappers.

"We picked up some snacks, too," Shizuru said, "We didn't think Ikuna would mind using her inflated drink fund."

Kurama went to take some of the bags from his friends, "No, she wouldn't mind at all. Thank you for doing all the leg work."

"Oh, hey, you're back quick!" Botan opened the door, helping a newly dressed Ikuna from the bedroom.

"Aw, you didn't have to get all dressed up for us," Shizuru teased.

"Nonsense!" Ikuna sat in the middle of the couch, adjusting her kimono and offering a grateful smile to Botan for her help. She stuffed a pillow behind her to lean back against, "This way I match the apartment."

"You mean not a hot mess?"

"More or less."

Shizuru sat back on the couch, "I'll accept it. Hey, bro, you wanna get your sister a drink?"

"Are you kidding me?" Kuwabara sat on the floor, a sleeping ball of orange and black fur nestled in his lap, "Henry's just fell asleep. Have some consideration for the animals, jeez."

Shizuru shook her head fondly, "Never change."

Kurama came over to the couch, "Shizuru," he handed off a beer, "Onna," and a glass of whiskey.

"Thanks, _Kurama_ ," Shizuru said gratefully, looking pointedly at Kuwabara.

"Thank you, darling," Ikuna said, accepting her glass.

"Hey, Kuwabara," Yusuke called over, "Whiskey or beer?"

"Eh, just a beer for now. It's a little early for the hard stuff."

"Suit yourself," he said, "Here babe, we got some juice, too," he bent over Keiko sitting on the floor and handed off a can.

"Thanks, Yusuke."

"Keiko dear, you don't drink?" Ikuna asked curiously.

"N-No, not really. I usually just stick to juice or soda," she said shyly.

"Ah, 'Wine is water adulterated by foolish talk,'" Ikuna recited.

"And yet you drink more than anyone I have ever met," Kurama mused.

"Pfft. You haven't met my mother," Yusuke retorted, causing a break of laughter amongst the friends.

"So," Shizuru said, taking a sip of beer, "do you mind me asking what ails ya," she asked Ikuna.

Ikuna shook her head, "I'm not ill, but I haven't had a proper meal in a few years or so."

"You should have said so. We have chips, some crackers over here, some—" Shizuru stopped at Kurama and Botan's restrained chortling and Keiko's uncomfortable giggles, "What?"

"Shizuru, darling," Ikuna placed one of her hands on Shizuru's arm, "I eat people."

"Oh," Shizuru paused and pointed with her lit cigarette, "Well, we have Kazuma, some Yusuke over there…"

Ikuna cackled heartily at the joke, "Ahhh! I love a good sense of humor. Why, I had Keiko practically quaking in her loafers when I informed her of my diet."

"I wasn't quaking," Keiko said weakly. She laughed despite herself, "I guess I was a little nervous being here by myself. But then you said something about me thinking it was a dream. You're a succubus, aren't you?"

Yusuke quietly nudged Keiko, obviously proud.

"I may have picked up a book on yokai studies," she said shyly.

"And you're absolutely correct," Ikuna smiled, "My usual method was to put my food to sleep. From there I could enter and alter their dreams. We would fornicate, and that's when I would draw from their vitality."

"Fornicate."

"Kuwabara, shut up," Yusuke said, "What was an unusual method of doing things?"

"Outright slaughter," Ikuna said, "Taking their vitality by touch while they are conscious. It appears much more uncomfortable that way for the prey, so I prefer not to."

"That's awfully nice of ya," Yusuke said sarcastically.

"I like to think so. Oh, Shizuru, dear, don't worry. It has to be skin-on-skin contact, and something more intimate like hand holding or sex."

"Oh, I didn't know you could do it through holding hands," Botan said, completely captivated by Ikuna's methods.

"Sure. Why do you think those acts of physical contact feel so good?"

"I dunno, love, I guess?" Kuwabara said.

"There is that, but also," Ikuna linked her fingers together, "It's the joining of life energy. Your lips, your hands, your genitals, those are all major streams of energy. Botan and Yukina's healing power comes from their hands. Yusuke and Kuwabara, your spirit attacks come from there, as well. At one point even Kurama's young human body could only activate his plants through his hands."

"Huh, that makes sense, but what keeps us all from accidentally killing each other?" Yusuke asked.

"You simply weren't born with the equipment necessary to pull from one another," Ikuna said simply, "Any other questions? I am happy to teach you all that I know."

"Well, yeah," Yusuke said, "If you haven't 'had a proper meal' in years, and what with the ban on harming humans and all that, I mean," he scratched his cheek, "How have you managed to survive this long?"

"I fed on lesser demons, killing them, taking their money," Ikuna stared off into space, taking sips of her whiskey, "Kurama would often offer the names and locations of heinous human criminals during our meetings, but I refused. I didn't want to run the risk of being pursued."

"I feel like that isn't as healthy as taking a human, is it?" Keiko said. Ikuna shook her head.

"No, not at all. A full human life—when I would take one back in my early days—would last me approximately four years. The little C and B class demons would last me 6 months at best. The D class demons that usually fell into my traps… 2 months?"

"So, that little shrimp Hiei back in the day would have only given you 2 months?" Kuwabara asked.

"Oh!" Ikuna laughed, "Oh, yuck! His energy is horrid!"

"What, you've tried to eat Hiei before?" Botan asked incredulously.

"Goodness, no, no, no," Ikuna waved her hand about, "Everyone puts of a sort of aroma that I can taste in the air. Hiei's is briny and so, so tortured."

"Hehe! I can't wait to tell the little shrimp next time I see him!" Kuwabara said excitedly.

"So, Ikuna," Shizuru leaned back into the couch with an easy smile, "Who has the best aroma in the room?"

Ikuna rested a finger on her lip and closed her eyes, "You know, I usually would have said Kurama's, but Keiko, you have a lovely warmth and sweetness about you. Like vanilla or toasted sugar." She opened her eyes to see Keiko swallowing stiffly.

"You know… I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified," she said.

"Do me, next!" Kuwabara exclaimed.

"I've always wondered," Kurama chimed in, "How much life would you receive from devouring an S class demon?"

Ikuna tilted her head up to him, "Have a couple more drinks and we'll find out."

"Hey-o! Now the party is really getting started!" Yusuke exclaimed, "Another round? Anyone?"

Ikuna's cheeks were sore from how hard she was smiling. She curled up against Kurama's side, her head—heavy with drink—resting against his firm shoulder. Yusuke sat at the tea table, resting one hand on Keiko as she slept in his lap. Kuwabara propped his head up with one hand, conspiring with Botan about something or another. Botan sat against the couch, near Shizuru's outstretched legs. Cards lay in discarded hands on the table, along with a few half-full glasses and empty bags of chips.

Shizuru began to rise, "Alright," she said stretching, "Wake up sleeping beauty and let's get out of Ikuna's hair."

"So soon?" Ikuna straightened up, watching her new friends rustling to alertness and clearing the trash away, "I have been having such a wonderful time with you all."

"You need to get your rest," Kurama chided softly, "You've had a lot of excitement today," he ran his fingers through the hair on her crown and offered her a tired smile, "I'll go help them clean up."

Kuwabara gently set the still-sleeping Henry onto a cushion on the floor. Shizuru dumped her makeshift ashtray, and collected the empty bags and wrappers. Kurama put away the unopened bottles and cans in the kitchen while Botan rinsed glasses.

Ikuna's heart felt full.

"Jeez, she only drank one glass," Yusuke smiled to himself and gently shook Keiko, "Hey, Keiko, c'mon. Let's get you home." She grumbled a response, but did not make any other indications that she was awake.

"Would you like for me to wake her, Yusuke?" Ikuna slid down to the floor.

"What would you do?" he asked, gathering Keiko up in his arms.

"Well, I could use a ginseng powder. Although, it has this aphrodisiac side effect—"

"I think I can manage," Yusuke stammered.

Once the apartment was straightened up again, everyone started to make his or her way to the door.

"Kurama, you coming?" Yusuke asked.

"You go ahead. I'm going to see Ikuna to bed."

"Alrighty, then. You guys take care," Yusuke said with a suggestive wave, and shut the door behind him.

Kurama turned to Ikuna, legs curled under her on the floor. She looked up at him with those large brown eyes of hers, and he could see a familiar pleading there. They shared a silent moment. A push and pull of no words, just familiar gazes.

"Right," he said, breaking eye contact, "Let's get you to bed. Here, take my hand."

Ikuna pouted, "Couldn't you just sweep me up and carry me?"

"Ha, maybe when you're too weak to even talk. Now come on."

"Bahhhh. So stingy with your help," Ikuna braced herself against his strong arms as she lifted herself up, "Surely you'll stay the night?"

"I'm afraid I will. I don't feel entirely comfortable leaving you alone right now. At least until you've fed," he said, "You've had to have been feeling ill for over a week now for the apartment to be in the state of disarray that it was earlier."

Ikuna felt a pang of guilt. She did have that burst of energy a few days prior, but spent most of her day watching television and shopping instead of actually cleaning, "Yes, it has been hard by myself. I worry for Henry and my plants," she said truthfully. It wasn't an outright lie. She really does worry for her cat and garden when she gets like this.

Kurama set her on the edge of her bed, "I'll borrow a blanket from you and stay on the couch tonight, then. Classes are over for the next few weeks, so I have some free time." He turned to leave.

"Kurama," Ikuna called after him. He turned back, "Help me change?" she said coyly.

He laughed softly to himself for the thousandth time that night, "Goodnight, Onna," he said, and shut the door.

 **End Chapter 7**

* * *

NoodleNote: Ugh, slow burns are so hard. Like, you just want them to make out and get it over with. I do have a chapter outline that details one of Yuki-Onna and Yoko Kurama's nights together. Who's in? Anyone? Anyone?

See you next chapter.


	8. 8

**Running Together**

Chapter 8: A Long Time Past...

* * *

The Legendary Bandit raised a hand to signal a halt. The forest was quiet on this night, and he knew it was because of him. Lesser creatures had a tendency to silence themselves upon his arrival. The pungent fear in the air made him feel all the more powerful.

Kurama scanned the stronghold below. The only signs of life were sparse lanterns held by guards lazily wandering the halls. He turned his attention to his scout.

The unnamed demon nodded his head. _All clear_ he was saying, _No one awake but those guards_. Kurama's yellow eyes darted about to the others in the trees and bushes. All were ready for attack, waiting for the signal to strike.

This particular stronghold belonged to that of a noble demon. Not a particularly strong one, but he who holds the money holds the power. Hanzai-sha preferred traditional material riches to magical artifacts, but that didn't stop him from hoarding a few important items in his possession. Word has it that he keeps all of his precious belongings in one central room, so that he may bask in them when he wishes. While Hanzai-sha was but a squib, Kurama knew that the hired guards he housed would be a threat. A-class demons, such as himself. According to his intel, there were exactly fifteen in different quarters around the main house. The challenge would be to disarm them before they were alerted of the bandits' presence.

An unfamiliar scent. Kurama whipped around, other members of his party clambering into fighting stance.

"Easy, boys," a voice crooned from the brush, "I can assure you that I am on your side."

Kurama peered into the night. A woman, petite of stature and dressed in fine silks stepped forward, hands held poised by her head in surrender. Kurama noticed her hair piled high behind two protruding horns, hair pins tinkling, and a metal collar buzzing with some sort of power about her neck. She appeared pale and harmless, and yet Kurama knew to never trust appearances. He activated his Demonic Vine and held the edge to her neck.

"You've managed to pass my lookouts without alerting them. You and they will be dealt with accordingly."

She tilted her head up to analyze him, "That is awfully hasty of you. You would not even ask them how I managed in the first place?"

"I don't have time for mistakes. Or games."

"I came to join you," she said, "I am in league with your informant. You could use a mind that knows the way around the main house. Knows where the guardians sleep?"

"I have all the men I need."

"But not all the men that you could _use_."

"And you know what I could use?"

"A women's intuition, perhaps?"

Kurama paused. Then he laughed. The other demons around him shifted uncomfortably. The Legendary Bandit was rarely amused by trivial banter, "Fine," he lowered his blade, retracting the Demonic Vines back into their seeds, "Since you're so insistent, you may join us. At best you'll prove worthless and have yourself killed." He turned back to his scout who signaled once more that nothing had changed.

Kurama threw a sneer back to the woman, "Try to keep up," and with that he leapt into the night, his men exploding into action behind him.

From the trees came throngs of demons shooting flamed arrows at the outer houses, lighting screens and roofs aflame. Kurama found cover against a wall as guards—more than he had initially anticipated from his source—poured out of the quarters. No matter. He sprang from behind the wall, striking down two guards with his Demonic Vines, before beheading another with a snap of his whip. Easy. These warriors weren't anywhere near A-class.

"These demons are distractions," the woman said, appearing by his side, wielding only a knife, "The A-class guardians are going to group up into teams, with the lower class coming out here to fight and the upper class guardian staying with Hanzai-sha in the central chamber."

"You expect to survive with a toothpick?" Kurama taunted, "You may as well pierce your stomach to save the guards the trouble," he dismembered another few guards, ducking under an arrow and snapping his whip through the neck of the archer. The horned woman leapt back from an attack from another footman and stabbed her knife deep into his eye socket.

"I had imagined that The Legendary Bandit would implement more stealth in his conquests," she was breathing heavily already, clearly unaccustomed to battle.

The lower A-class guardians began to file out, calmly taking out the weaker of Kurama's men with little effort. No matter. The weaker ones were those that wanted to ride his fame to gain their own power. They were merely present to act as a buffer between his more loyal—and _capable_ —fighters and the threat.

"We have a few who preferred more conspicuous means," Kurama said, replying to her comment. The two sprinted to the main house.

"You aren't staying to do battle with the guardians?" she asked. Kurama could detect an air of surprise in her tone.

"They are not the reason why I'm here," he said. They ran down the halls side by side. Kurama's eyes flashed to her following close behind. He planted a seed, "I counted thirteen guardians in the courtyard. The stronger two are in here."

"Two?"

"There are fifteen guardians. You weren't aware?" he scoffed, continuing to where he knew the central chamber was. The room of treasure, challenge, power.

The woman split off from him. Kurama could hear his men bringing the fight into the main house. _She'll likely die here. Fool._ He had planned to take advantage of the chaos to infiltrate the central chamber, killing the upper level guardian in one fell swoop and drinking in Hanzai-sha's terror. Until finally killing him, of course.

At last Kurama reached his destination. He waited a heartbeat, listening. There wasn't a soul inside? He burst into the chamber, sensing something amiss. All around were riches piled high, bank papers, chests of gold and exotic wood, pottery emblazed with precious metals, and rare magical artifacts crusted in precious human world jewels. His eyes scanned the room, puzzled. Any criminal fool fearing for his life would be here. Where the wealth is. He would want to die with his wealth. That's what he was told.

The other bandits began to crowd into the room, scruffy and bloodied from battle. They didn't care about their wounds. They scrambled for claim to the various treasures, adorning themselves with jewels and pocketing coins.

"Take what you will, but leave any artifacts to me," Kurama commanded before stalking down the hall. His men were _in_ the treasure room, but no Hanzai-sha or the two A-classes to be found. _If he isn't here, then he's laying a trap_ , Kurama thought, _Or he's escaping. But why leave the treasure he cares so much for—_

He heard a sound from a room off to his left, like a whimper or sob. He paused in front of the door, listening. The whimpering sounded as if from a man, but there was a violent murmuring as well, and a rhythmic sound, familiar to Kurama's ears. He slid the door to the side. In the dark of the room lay another woman, lifeless mouth agape, neck sliced open. Farther into the dark room was Hanzai-sha, and atop him like a vengeful spirit was the horned woman that had split off from Kurama just moments earlier. Now that he was in the room, he could make out her murmurings.

"This was what you wanted. This is why you came into my room all those nights while your whore wife turned a blind eye." Hanzai-sha's whimpers turned to guttural cries as he struggled for air. If the woman knew Kurama was in the room watching, she didn't show it as she moved, wild eyed, draining the life from Hanzai-sha until he was but a husk.

She removed herself from his body. From her kimono she produced a handkerchief, and reached within her skirts to clean herself. In a motion of cold callous she wiped the blood from her knife with the kerchief and tossed it onto the blank face of the dead man. "A final parting gift," she said, clarity returning to her voice. She turned, and Kurama could see that color had returned to her cheeks, vitality that he wasn't aware she was missing. She stepped over Hazai-sha's corpse to that of the other woman's.

"The fourteenth guardian was his wife," she said to Kurama. She reached down and wrenched a jeweled comb from the dead wife's tresses, ripping chunks of scalp with it. She picked the comb clean and tucked it into her robes.

"You were the fifteenth," Kurama said, finding his voice.

The woman stepped ever closer to him, "No. I am not well versed in physical conflict as you saw. I suppose Hanzai-sha counted me in to sound more intimidating."

"Your collar," Kurama eyed her bare neck.

"Was a tool used to suppress my power. Tsumana, the wife, held the key. Once it was off, taking Hanzai-sha's life was effortless."

Kurama looked passed her. Sure enough, there was the collar, unlocked and lying open on the floor between Hanzai-sha and the fourteenth guardian, "I'm glad that you were able to exact whatever revenge you needed," He turned his focus back to her, small, hair falling out of it's intricate pile atop her head, kimono slipping down her shoulders to expose lily white skin, "but I can't let you live. I'm sorry," and he found that he meant the apology. He activated the Seed of the Death Plant that he'd burrowed deep within her breast while they were running down the hall earlier. Her eyes grew wide with panic.

Suddenly, Kurama faltered. He caught his balance, and eyed the woman warily. His Death Plant wasn't responding. She stood in front of him, all signs of previous panic gone from her features, "Who are you?" he asked.

"They call me Yuki-Onna," she stated coolly. She sat back against a tree. Was that tree always there? "I just happened to be doing business in the north at the time of my name being given to me by legend." She lit a pipe, "Sit, my dear."

Kurama's body did as she ordered, sitting him in the grass. There was a field spread wide around them. Wild flowers dotted the grass? Where…?

"I have a proposition for you… Kurama, is it?"

He noted her change of tone from that of nervous servitude when he first met her to that of ruling matriarch, "So you've heard. You must be feeling much more comfortable with me now that you've locked me in a dream."

"Ah, so you _have_ heard of me," she smiled knowingly. It didn't fit the circumstances. Try as he might, he couldn't make himself wake up.

"As for my proposal," she continued, "it's a simple trade. You release me of your plant, and I release you of this dream. I am more than willing to stay here until our bodies rot in that house if that's what it takes. But I will not die via plant exploding from my flesh," she took a puff of her pipe, "There are prettier ways to die."

Kurama found that he had not been able to speak the entire time she was giving her proposal. Whatever hold she had on his voice, she released. "Is that all?" he asked disdainfully.

"Ah, yes," she straightened her posture, "I have been hearing tales of your conquest since I reentered the Makkai after the barrier went up. Thieving and power through wealth…" she leaned forward, "I would like to be a part of your team."

"Fine."

"You'll have me?"

"Yes."

"And remove the seed?"

"I can't remove it," he said tightly, "But you have my word that I will never use it."

Yuki-Onna settled back against the tree, puffing on her pipe, deep black eyes boring into him, "Then it is settled."

Kurama awoke, face down on the floor. He could still hear his men looting the house, unaware that their leader was caught in a web of witchery. He raised his head groggily, silver hair hanging in his face. Yuki-Onna was sat on the floor, looking to be in deep meditation. She opened her eyes to look at him.

"What's keeping me from activating the Death Plant right now?" Kurama grunted, shakily picking himself up from where he'd fallen.

Yuki-Onna thought for a moment, "I think you know," she said finally. They both stood, "I would put you to sleep again. It would be an endless cycle until we died."

Kurama steadied his eyes onto Yuki-Onna. She shivered at his penetrating gaze despite herself. He closed the distance between the two of them. "You belong to me, now. You will be included in our ranks, but you will not be equal to us. And Yuki-Onna," he grabbed her jaw, gripping it tightly so that her eyes were forced to meet his directly. Her heart palpitated in cold fear, "If you ever manipulate my dreams again, I will kill you without thought, and this time you will not feel the tendrils of death creeping through your breast. You won't feel anything at all. You will blink out of existence." He released her jaw and strode from the room.

Yuki-Onna stood for a moment, waiting until he left before she tended to her bruised face. From one prison to another.

 **End Chapter 8**

* * *

Noodle Note: Moving cross country really takes the wind out of your sails. I got my spark back, and I'm writing more than ever. I've also edited chapter 7. The scene where Ikuna wakes Keiko up always felt a little inappropriate to me.

To Good Omens: I see you, girl. *sticks leg in* Solidarity.

So, how'd we like this chapter? When I came back to it in my Word document after a month, I found that I had literally left myself a note that said "Fuck it, we're doing a flashback!"

See you next chapter.


	9. 9

**Running Together**

Chapter 9: In the Apartment...

* * *

The apartment was once again alight with chatter.

"So, this is what entertains the women of today?" Ikuna snickered, settling back with a beer. All but one light was switched off. In the dim light, the women around her looked sensual and powerful to Ikuna. Keiko, Botan, and Shizuru at around the living space, draped against pillows or settled onto the floor.

The romantic comedy on TV played on, a prostitute walking down the street in a mini dress and wig, "Well, I wouldn't say _all_ women of today sit around and watch rom-coms," Shizuru spoke around an unlit cigarette in her mouth.

On screen, a tired businessman drove up to the prostitute, and made her an offer she couldn't refuse.

"This seems so dangerous," Ikuna said, taking a sip of her beer, "American prostitutes have to find their own clients on the street? Brothels are much safer. It's downright ludicrous that they haven't thought of that."

"Well, Ikuna, prostitution is illegal in The United States," Keiko said.

Ikuna looked aghast, "Well, whatever for? It's the oldest profession in the entire world! Before my time, even."

Botan held her drink to her chin, "You know, I remember running into one of the American grim reapers, and he said the running excuse was that prostitution is too close to slavery."

"Or their government just hasn't figured out how to tax it, yet," Shizuru said dryly.

Botan giggled, "He later told me that the spirits of politians would admit to all sorts of things they did or didn't do because of money."

"Could it be that prostitution is just immoral and degrading to the women in the industry?" Keiko offered.

Ikuna was taken aback once again, "Why, Keiko! And here I thought you were a true woman's woman."

"Oh—I mean… Uhhh—"

"Sex work is nothing short of empowering. Why, just think of it. The command your sexuality has over Yusuke—"

"Uh—Hold on—" Keiko stammered.

"—he's downright afraid of it! All men are," Ikuna paused to sip her beer, "Sex is such a vulnerable act for men. They're opening themselves back up to the womb, the very mechanism of creation that brought them into this world! Why do you think men always want to be on top of women, Keiko? Why do you think that is?"

"Um, Ikuna, perhaps a change of subject?" Botan said fretfully, conscious of Keiko's reddening face and neck.

Keiko floundered, "Uh—Because they feel more powerful?"

"Because they _love_ feeling powerful! They _love_ engaging in sex on their terms. A sexual woman is terrifying, and they want to suppress that sexuality, and in turn suppress your independence, Keiko, your—your very _being_ , Keiko! That's why you should always be the rider when you and Yusuke—"

"Okay, I'm cutting the cord," Shizuru put a hand over Ikuna's mouth.

Keiko chewed her lip, "Can I ask your advice on something?"

Shizuru, Botan, and Ikuna whipped their heads around to stare at her, all unsure of what they're about to hear.

"W-Well…" Keiko stuttered. "I mean, it's just, you know, Yusuke and I haven't…" she buried her face into a pillow.

"You and Yusuke haven't had sex, yet." Shizuru said for her. She and Botan shared a look, thrilled to be witnessing this moment.

"I knew something like this would happen," Botan said, "Yusuke who would never lay a filthy hand on you."

"That's just the thing," Keiko mumbled into the pillow, "I don't think he actually wants to..."

Ikuna tilted her head to the side, "What ever do you mean, Keiko dear?"

Keiko lifted her head, still clutching the pillow to her chest, "I mean, he's never tried anything more than kissing me. I'm just worried that—I don't know… We've known each other for so long that he doesn't find me attractive?"

Shizuru, Botan, and Ikuna crowded Keiko, erupting in a chorus of assurances that Keiko was, indeed, very beautiful.

"Keiko, darling, have you two gone together long?" Ikuna asked.

Botan piped in, "They technically had their first kiss when Yusuke was still dead."

Ikuna jerked her head back as if she'd been slapped, "Kurama told me about that. That was _years_ ago."

"I mean, we've been friends since childhood. Before he left for Demon World he talked about getting married, but now he's back and he's been back for years and it's just that he doesn't touch me. What if he doesn't want to because we were friends for so long? What if we're too comfortable?" Keiko took a breath, waiting for Ikuna's response.

Something clicked in Ikuna's head, "Ohhhhh. It all makes sense now," she shifted in her spot to look at Keiko, and placed a hand on her cheek, "He's afraid."

"Or he's gay for my brother."

"Shizuru, shh! Different conversation," Botan gripped Shizuru's shoulders to ground herself. To her and Shizuru, this was a huge milestone in their friendship with Keiko.

Ikuna continued, "He respects you to a fault. He doesn't want to take things too fast and scare you."

"I'm not afraid. I actually really want… it."

"Yes, but he may not know that. You were childhood friends before? Did you find that as you got older and your relationship grew, that you tended to get in more arguments? You're likely unaccustomed to expressing yourselves as adults in love. Does that sound accurate?"

Keiko looked off to the side, "I… I guess so."

"You know what you have to do, right Keiko?" Ikuna asked.

"What?"

"You have to take matters into your own hands!"

"Yeah, I gotta agree with her, girly," Shizuru said with an easy smile, "It sounds like you just gotta show him you're ready."

"But, I've never done anything like this before. I'm not sexy or experienced—"

"Ah ah!" Ikuna said, holding a finger to Keiko's mouth, "Stop. Keiko, don't ever tell yourself that you're not sexy ever again. That's your first step," she said sternly.

Keiko started, "Y-Yes, ma'am."

"Now, listen. Think of all the things you've fantasized about him doing. The places you wanted to touch him, late at night—oh stop squirming, we've all done it—bring them to fruition." Ikuna leaned back into the couch and finished her beer, "He's a boy. He'll be more than happy to indulge. Poor kid would probably spill over if you so much as breathed on him."

Keiko snorted her juice through her nose, and sputtered into a choking fit.

Shizuru swore with a burst of laughter.

"Oh, no, hold on let me get you a napkin, Keiko," Botan gasped through tears.

Ikuna craddled Keiko's head to her chest as the two erupted into a shared laughter of their own.

Botan came back with a towel for Keiko as the merriment died down, "Okay, Ms. Love Expert," she said addressing Ikuna, "Spill it. What's with you and Kurama, anyway?"

"Ohh, yeah, I hear he's been spending the night," Shizuru hummed.

"Firstly, that is a complete fabrication, he simply stayed late to see me off to bed last week," Ikuna lied, "Secondly, this will become an excessively long story, so I would like to request another beer."

"Botan broke the golden rule," Keiko giggled.

"It's true, Botan," Ikuna said smuggly, "You didn't ask if anyone needed a refill when you stood."

"D'oh! You're right, you're right, I'll go get refills for everyone. Keiko would you like another juice?"

"I think I'd like a beer, actually."

"Uh oh, I guess we're rubbing off on you," Shizuru teased.

"You know, Shizuru. Botan," Ikuna smiled coyly, "I never hear either of you talk about men. Are there any _women_ in your lives?"

Both Shizuru and Botan stiffened, "W-well," Botan began, distributing the new beer cans out, "I've certainly been around spirit world once or twice."

"No way, Botan. You?" Keiko said incredulously.

"Spiritual escorts meet a lot of people!" Botan replied defensively, "You can't expect me to only be attracted to the men!"

 _What do they say these days? "Called it_ ," Ikuna thought to herself proudly.

"Hey, that's not fair. Ikuna didn't answer our question," Shizuru's eyes flicked to Botan before settling back to Ikuna, accompanied by a mischievous smirk.

Ikuna grinned, "He and I are merely old friends. We used to run in the same thieving ring. I believe we've saved each other's lives at least a dozen times over."

"Boring…" Shizuru stood with her drink in hand, "I'm gonna go smoke."

Ikuna watched her leave through the balcony door, _I suppose… I could have been a little more forthcoming_.

She turned their attention back to the movie. On screen, the prostitute told the businessman that she doesn't kiss on the mouth. He tried to kiss her over and over, but she pulled away each time.

"I think I'll join her," Ikuna said, rising.

"Do you need help getting up, Ikuna?" Keiko asked.

"Oh, no, please sit and enjoy the movie," she said, wavering over to the door.

Shizuru turned mid-puff to greet Ikuna, "Oh, hey. I don't usually have visitors."

Ikuna held out her hand for the cigarette, which Shizuru generously obliged. She took a puff, wincing at the sharp burn, savoring it. She handed it back to Shizuru and exhaled, "It's harsher than it used to be."

"Tobacco? I can imagine."

"No, I mean love."

"Oh."

Ikuna and Shizuru leaned against the railing, looking out over the city. Ikuna felt lightheaded from the nicotine. It made her stomach turn.

Both women started talking at the same time. They stopped short, chuckling.

"After you," Ikuna said.

Shizuru inhaled the smoke, choosing her words with it, "We didn't kiss or anything… Ahhh… I don't know what I'm saying," she looked down onto the street below. Couples and groups walked by, talking with each other in coats and scarves.

"Botan?" Ikuna guessed.

Shizuru dropped her head, "Is it that obvious?"

"No, no. I decided I would say her name and you would react one way or another."

"Heh. Of course," She lifted her head again, looking straight ahead, "You know about the Dark Tournament, right? So, one night, Keiko, Botan, and I were in our hotel room. Keiko passed out early, and Botan and I had a couple drinks. And—I don't know, just the vibe. It didn't feel strictly platonic."

"And you've been thinking about this ever since?" Ikuna asked.

"Yeah. We run in the same circle. I see her all the time. And even with all my psychic… whatever, I can't tell if she thinks about it as much as I do," she sighed, "So, you and Kurama?"

Ikuna smiled coyly, "Suichi Minamino and I are wonderfully platonic friends," she said.

"You _would_ short me like that—"

"But," she continued, "The Yoko Kurama and Yuki-Onna had a much more complex relationship. That was hundreds of years ago. A different Kurama. A different me."

"Have you guys ever talked about…?" Shizuru drifted off.

Ikuna looked out onto the city skyline, "You know, Suichi loves his family so very much. He would do anything for them. He would die for them. The same goes for your Kurama. He would fight vehemently for the health and wellness of his friends, and that's his focus. His family and his friends. And I think that's very admirable. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Shizuru quietly passed the cigarette to Ikuna, who took another drag and passed it back to Shizuru.

"Why don't you simply discuss your feelings with Botan? She's lived a long time, you know. She's certainly more mature than we often give her credit for."

Shizuru took one last drag and put out the cigarette, "Things aren't as breezy up here as they are in demon world, girly," she offered her arm to Ikuna, "C'mon, let's go inside."

Ikuna and Shizuru entered back into the apartment and took their seats in front of the TV. On the screen, the prostitute was packing her belongings having left the businessman. She was no longer needed.

 **End Chapter 9**

* * *

Noodle Note: So, do you guys actually like these "OC with the girls" chapters, or are we just wishing there were more Kurama chapters? Also, to my Filipino and Czech readers: I see y'all.

See you next chapter.


	10. 10

**Running Together**

Chapter 10: Sneaking into the Apartment...

* * *

Kurama entered the apartment in the early hours of the morning. He pressed the front door shut, taking painstaking care not to disturb the quiet. He tiptoed through the living room and set a paper bag on the kitchen counter as gently as he can. A beer can toppled over, panging against the counter. He caught it just before it hit the floor. He grimaced, eyes darting about for signs of stirring. Botan and Shizuru were still fast asleep in the living room. Kurama released a tense breath.

He crept into Ikuna's bedroom, where she and Keiko lay sleeping side by side, Henry tucked between them. He couldn't help but chuckle quietly, delighted that Ikuna was finally finding a place among his friends.

"Kurama?" Ikuna stirred awake.

He went to her, "Good morning."

"It's early," she whispered, turning over to face him, "What are you doing here? Weren't you to work with your stepfather today?"

He brushed her hair from her face, lingering his touch against her horn, "I thought our friends might be hungry when they woke this morning," he said, "I brought breakfast for them."

The corners of her mouth pulled up and she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, "That was very thoughtful of you. Help me up, darling?"

He gently lifted her to her feet, "You smell like cigarettes."

Ikuna rested her forehead against his collarbone, "I'll admit, I don't think I can stand for long on my own."

"Where would you like me to carry you?"

"The balcony,"

"As you wish," he said, and scooped her up.

Kurama joined her outside with a blanket over his arm and a cup of instant coffee in each hand. He offered one to her.

"Thank you, darling." she accepted the cup, "Is there whiskey in it?

Kurama shook his head wryly and settled down next to her, draping the blanket over their legs. He covered her shoulders with his jacket.

"You spoil me, darling" she said, "I adore you."

The sun rose fully, cutting through the city fog. Ikuna shivered.

"What time are you leaving me today?" she asked.

"I'll have to catch the train in an hour," he replied, "You over exerted yourself yesterday."

"I did," she said, sipping her coffee. She never had much use for the stuff, but appreciated the ritual all the same, "We had a wonderful evening. It shows, doesn't it?"

"It does. Yusuke once told me that Keiko was a relatively light sleeper, yet she didn't so much as stir when I entered the room."

"That poor girl," Ikuna shook her head again, "Love can be such a burden," she said quietly.

"I wouldn't worry. Yusuke isn't the brightest, but he feels very deeply for Keiko."

"Ah, I want to believe that. He doesn't come off as particularly mature, and that makes me feel uneasy of their future together," she rested her head on his shoulder.

Kurama shifted his weight so that his side was pressed against hers, "I've known the two of them for a long time. I think they can handle each other," he angled his head to look down at her, "You still haven't fully shaken your distrust in men. I suppose I have myself to blame for that."

Ikuna gave a tired laugh, "Oh, my love," she tilted her head up to meet his eyes, "You know I trust you with all my body and soul." Kurama smiled and turned his attention back to the city. "They asked about us, you know."

"What about?"

"The nature of our relationship."

"That was to come up sooner or later," Kurama sighed. After a moment, "What did you say to them?"

Ikuna shrugged noncommittally, "That we're old friends," she raised her coffee to her lips.

"I see," Kurama did the same.

They watched a smattering of students chattering on their way to Saturday classes. After a while, Kurama asked, "Onna, what do you plan to do for nourishment?"

Ikuna sighed, "This old song, again…"

"You need to tell me what your plans are. You could pick off the D class demons."

"I truly can't imagine Enki's thinking. How could he have thought that simply _ordering_ demons to refrain from troublemaking would work in favor of peace? The night ladies and I knew that he won by chance—"

"You can't change the subject this time, Onna," Kurama said, "I won't let you." Ikuna turned away from him in a huff. He pressed on, "What are you going to do?"

"I have it taken care of," she snapped, "What else do you want me to say?"

"That you aren't intentionally killing yourself." Kurama wasn't known to raise his voice, even as a demon, but Ikuna could hear the telltale hardness in his tone. She remained silent, fuming. This wasn't the morning she wanted. Not the conversation she was hoping for.

"Onna, out there in the city there are at least a half dozen demons taking advantage of humanity as we speak—"

"Kurama, if I ingest another demon life, I will die."

Kurama closed his mouth, staring hard at her, studying her for a lie, "I'm sorry?"

Ikuna leaned back against the wall, watching his face solemnly, "You didn't earnestly believe that cannibalism was a sustainable long term solution, did you?"

Kurama thought back to their former days of thievery. She was taking in demon life energy for as long as he's known her. More than once he had used her appetite as a punishment for insubordination. Not once then did he consider the toll that it would have on her body, "I… I hadn't thought of it."

"Well, that's awfully unusual for the great strategist Kurama, isn't it?" she spat.

He looked to the sky, thinking quickly. "Perhaps you can continue to absorb plants—"

"Oh, sweetheart, are you going to bring me a new plant everyday? For the next millennium?" she said bitterly, "You really are a fool."

"I understand that you didn't want to talk about this so early in the morning," he said quietly, "but there's no need for hostility."

She scoffed and crossed her arms.

The balcony door slid open.

"Oh, hey. I didn't know this space was occupied."

"Shizuru, good morning," Kurama greeted her politely, "Come on out, I was just leaving."

Shizuru stepped out into the open air, lighting a cigarette, "I guess you're the breakfast fairy," she raised a mug in a toast, "Thanks."

Kurama rose and replaced the blanket where he was sitting, "Would you like for me to take you inside?" he asked Ikuna.

"I'd like to stay outside a little longer."

He collected their empty mugs, "I'll be off, then. Please call me if you need anything."

Ikuna watched him leave, holding onto her resentment, "I think I'll manage for now."

He nodded curtly and left.

Shizuru waited until she could hear the front door open, shut, and lock with finality, "Okay, then," she took a drag off her cigarette and offered it to Ikuna, "What was that about?"

Ikuna accepted the cigarette, taking a hit, "Nothing."

"I'm practically choking on the tension."

"It's more likely the nicotine."

"You and Kurama seem pretty grouchy."

"It's early."

Shizuru threw up her hands, and turned back to the city skyline. She lit a fresh cigarette, letting Ikuna keep the other.

Ikuna grasped her arms, holding herself, staring off into the city. She bit her lip. She would have jostled her leg if she could muster the energy. She still had half a cigarette left, and despite the buzzing in her head, she wanted to suck it down. Finally—

"Oh, that _idiot_!"

Shizuru casually turned back to Ikuna, "There it is."

"It's just—he doesn't—he just—" she ran her hands through the hair at her crown.

"Go on, I'll wait."

Ikuna made a frustrated snarl and glared at the corner, averting her eyes, "I just… I don't usually—Argh!"

"It's okay. You're not the type to get mad, huh?"

"Yes! Precisely that! And it burns me up. It's barely seven in the morning, why, we were on track for a wonderful day and he tore it all asunder!"

"Mhmm, mhmm—"

"Who does that nithing sciolist think he is, bringing up whatever prattle he cares to without thinking about how it would affect me!"

"Okay, you're sliding back into archaic territory. Let's reel it back."

"I'm sorry, it's just… to be treated like a child in that way—I'm so irritated!"

"Well, yeah, anyone would be."

"How _dare_ he come into _my_ home and tell _me_ how to live _my_ life as if I haven't been doing it for the last thousand years on my own! He doesn't need to know my plans, and he certainly is not entitled to make my decisions for me!" Ikuna settled back, counting her breaths. Her face felt hot, and her hands shook. Anger was not becoming of a woman, but the more she thought about it, the more infuriated she felt. Little tears prickled and threatened to spill.

"Ikuna…" Shizuru sat next to her.

Ikuna rubbed her eyes, "I'm what you would call 'an angry crier,'" she said, "It's humiliating. This whole argument is humiliating."

Shizuru sat quietly with Ikuna while she continued counting her breaths, using her fingers to close one nostril and then another, "What are you doing?" Shizuru asked finally.

Ikuna continued the patterns of closing her nostrils, "It's an old technique," she said steadily, " _Nadi Shodhana_. I learned it long ago while on a sabbatical in India. Their name for something like me was a Yakshini," she finally rested her hand, looking and sounding more level, "I was visiting a demon known as Kubera, whom they worship as a god of wealth. Shmashana was what they had called me," she looked to the sky. Her cigarette was nearly out, "I dare say that the Hindi were actually kind to me."

Shizuru studied Ikuna's face, "Listen, you're not going to like this, but I heard most of you guys' conversation," she saw Ikuna's eyes flash before returning to impassivity, "I'm not saying you can't be mad at Kurama, but you gotta know that he has a pretty good reason to be mad at you, too, you know?"

Ikuna sneered, "What all did you _eavesdrop_ on?"

"Okay, don't do that," Shizuru said firmly, "I am not your little fox boy. I won't put up with that petty shit, so unless you want to sit out here alone, I suggest you knock it off." Ikuna's face twisted up, and for a moment she was almost certainly going to slit Shizuru's throat for speaking to her in that way. Then she paused. In reality, no one had ever spoken to her like that before. At least, not in a way that told Ikuna she was being cared for.

Shizuru watched her closely. Ikuna swallowed and tore her gaze away in shame.

"I'm sorry," Ikuna said finally.

Shizuru held back a smile, "It's okay. I know you had a stressful morning, but I'm your friend. We don't talk to our friends like that here in the human world. Well—" she thought about Yusuke and Kazuma, and also the stoic Hiei, "—not with the intent to hurt each other, anyways. It's not right."

"I understand. I shouldn't have lashed out at you in that way," Ikuna sighed, feeling more tired than when she first woke up, "Am I wrong to be angry at Kurama?"  
"He's probably on the train wondering the same thing about you, right now. I don't think it's fair to be mad at him for caring, but you're right. He probably could have saved the conversation for later instead of attacking you right when you woke up."

"I was so terrible to him, and he _let_ me treat him that way. The Yoko Kurama would have never… Yuki-Onna would never have _dared_ …" she trailed off, thinking of the horrors. Her hand fell to a certain spot in her chest where a seed still lay buried.

"Ikuna, do you mind if I speak frankly for a second?"

"Yes, go on, Shizuru."

"Okay, so," Shizuru took a drag, choosing her words carefully, "I personally think he's right. You need to be feeding yourself, but with actual food. Whatever self-sacrificing shit you're on needs to stop because you have a whole bunch of people who've gotten to know you. Letting yourself die is probably the most selfish shit you could do after inviting us all to your place and making us like you. You understand?"

"I… Yes, I do."

"And you've got this guy, this big-hearted guy who's almost died multiple times for his friends and family, and he's trying to help you find a solution, but you're just blowing him off. You won't even give him a straight reason why you're refusing food, you're just doing it without giving a shit what he feels about his oldest and best friend slowly killing herself in front of him."

Ikuna simply nodded, staring it her hands in her lap.

"Now I want you to do something for me, girly. I want you to think about the reason that you're doing this to yourself in the first place, and I want you to decide if it's worth what you're doing to us. And to him, especially," Shizuru watched Ikuna for any hint as to what she was thinking, but received none. She held her hand out for Ikuna's cigarette, long since burnt out. Ikuna placed it into her hand, saying nothing to indicate whether Shizuru's words got to her. After a moment, Shizuru spoke again.

"So, did you travel a lot?" she asked.

"Yes," Ikuna cracked a sheepish smile, relieved for a lighter topic, "I didn't spend all of my time in Japan. I was sure to travel about a bit, get a taste of the locals, if you will," she chuckled.

"Is that why you gave your cat an English name?"

Ikuna dissolved into giggles, "Oh, you mean Henry? You could say that, yes."

Shizuru's eye lit up, "Is there a story here that I'm not getting?"

"Well, alright, if you insist!" Ikuna shifted to face Shizuru, "It was 1536 and King Henry of England had just married his second wife…"

 **End Chapter 10**

* * *

Noodle Note: Look, man, Ikuna isn't human, but she still makes asshole mistakes, you feel?  
Thank you as always for sticking with me and reading this. It means so much to me to see that someone out there is loving my story.

See you next chapter!


	11. 11

**Running Together**

Chapter 11: In her dreams...

* * *

Throngs of moaning bodies writhed beneath her. They fought to relish the last sweet sensation of her body, syphoning off their very existence. Yet, through this they longed for the end, for death, for the restless exhaustion they felt under Ikuna was only a hellish ride. Women screamed, bowing their backs for her, alight by her tongue. Their nails grazed her skin, defenseless rabbits in a wolf's maw. These humans were all dying, living only for her, but empty all the same. It was haunting. She knew it was a nightmare. She heard violent banging in the distance.

Ikuna started awake to the sound of her own voice crying out. She found herself alone once again. The apartment was quiet, dark but for the flickering of her television. On screen, an innocent child was being taken in by a beautiful, kind prostitute.

Ikuna released a breath she wasn't aware of holding. Her old demon heart was beating just a touch faster than usual, and she could feel her eyes bulging. She closed them, and encased her face in her slender hands, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Dozing off in strange places was beginning to become a habit of hers, and she knew why. An old nervous tick returned to her. She worried her horns absently, pushing the dream from her mind, burying it deep into her psyche. They've become harder for her to control, her dreams.

The sound of tapping on glass startled her.

Her head whipped around toward the sliding glass door, doe eyes caught in the light of the city. There was a familiar silhouette in the glass.

"Kurama," she murmured, "Come in, love," and he did. She looked him over. He was in his combat clothes, the yellow ones that she liked so much. He strode through the room, the dim light making him look otherworldly. She felt her heart stir at his silent gait and he perched on the sofa next to her.

Seconds passed before either spoke. Both had so many questions.

Finally, "My love, why are you wearing that?"

Kurama collapsed back into the couch with an ancient sigh, "I had to look into something tonight. For Koenma."

Ikuna waited for any further explanation. "Yes? And?"

He just shook his head, "I can't say anymore until we know for certain that it doesn't require further attention."

"Right."

More quiet.

Ikuna studied Kurama's profile. His eyes had the familiar weariness of battle, and though she wanted so badly to know what could have afflicted him with this stricken stare, she knew better than to bother asking. When he wanted to tell her, he would. When he wanted to keep secrets, he would. She studied the flow of his hair, running down his shoulders in a deep red curtain, hiding his eyes. One arm rested over his abdomen—a defensive habit she remembered from when he was young—and one laid limp on the couch next to him. She memorized each curve of his fingers, every wrinkle of his knuckles, every freckle on his fingernails. The silence stretched on to a point where Ikuna felt that it might suffocate her. She reached for him, and he enclosed her hand in his.

He parted his lips to speak.

"No, wait," Ikuna said, "Before you say anything more, I want to apologize for yesterday," she traced the lines on his palm, "I know that you are trying to protect me. The way I spoke to you was uncalled for." She looked at him through her eyelashes. He offered her a worn smile.

"I'd like to apologize," she said, "I'm sorry."

"I should be the one to apologize," he replied, "It wasn't fair of me to press you like I did, when you weren't expecting it."

"I never expected it when you would press onto me back then, either," she said suggestively. She chuckled at his expression, brushing hair from his eyes, "Just trying to lighten the mood a little."

He shook his head with a tired laugh. Ikuna savored the sound, finding relief in its music. She reached for a glass on the table, just short of touching it. "You look like you could use a drink."

Kurama leaned forward to nudge the glass into her hand, "You know, I think I would like one. Are the other glasses clean?"

"Yes, the girls cleaned for me before they left, the dolls. There's a leftover bottle of soju in the cupboard. Why don't you bring that over?"

Kurama strode into the kitchen, "Soju?" he said, "When did you switch from whiskey?"

"I didn't. But I had finished my last bottle this morning. Desperate times and all."

Kurama returned with another glass and a bottle. He settled back into the couch, on the other end instead of directly next to her, and Ikuna could see that he had removed his shoes. He poured them each a drink, "I've wanted to ask you, but we always wander to different topics of conversation."

"Yes?"

"If memory serves, you shouldn't be able to pick up on energy signatures in your current state, and yet you always appear to be expecting me when I come over unannounced."

Ikuna clinked her glass against his and took a sip, welcoming the burn traveling down her chest, "Of course I am. You're in the air before you even step foot into my neighborhood. Do you think I would forget your taste so easily?"

The corners of Kurama's mouth pulled up despite himself. He sipped his drink slowly, watching her face for signs of mischief, "No, I suppose you wouldn't."

They inched closer to each other over the next hours spent refilling each other's drinks and laughing quietly in the dim light. Ikuna rested her hand on Kurama's shoulder, his knee, his hand. She ran her fingers through the length of his hair absently, smiled freely when he spoke, giddy under his gaze. She felt joy, contented in the enchantment of sharing a drink with him. Kurama held her hands. His stare never left her form, running from her warm eyes to her lily-white neck, resting on her slender legs and flitting up to the curve of her mouth. They felt comfortable in each other's company.

Ikuna leaned into the couch and felt her eyelids grow heavy. Kurama watched her sink into the cushions, something soft and warm growing in his chest. With a delicate touch he took her glass from her hand and set in down on the table.

"I'll clean those in the morning, my dear. Let's get you into bed."

Ikuna giggled, looking up at Kurama with her doe eyes, "You'll carry me, won't you?" she asked teasingly. She let one finger catch her lower lip, knowing full and well what she was doing. Her face was buzzing with drink, and from the green eyes steadily trained on her, she knew Kurama's was, too.

He chuckled to himself and scooped her up, china white legs cradled in warm arms, chest against chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. She noticed more about him. Or maybe she was letting herself notice more about him. Where before she would willfully ignore the music of his voice and the satin touch of his hands, she now allowed herself to take guiltless pleasure. His hair smelled of sweet roses. His body radiated with a steady heat. His lips were wet where he licked them after a drink. She could feel his breath as he carried her into her bedroom. She could feel her insides stir.

He set her down on the edge of the bed and knelt before her.

"What are you doing, my love?" Ikuna raised his chin with her hand. His intense eyes glowed in the moonlight streaming in from the window. She was drawn into their depths, finding a sharp intensity that wasn't there before. She felt her breath hitch.

He broke their gaze and unrolled her sock from her thigh over her knee, down the curve of her shin, and off her ankle, "You prefer sleeping without socks on. I thought I would give you a hand."

Ikuna broke into fit of giggles, "You are an angel, do you know that? I can't believe after all this time you remembered." He quietly removed her other sock, his fingers lingering on the skin of her inner thigh just a little longer than before. Enough for Ikuna to notice. She tested his strength.

"You know, these days I find myself disliking sleeping in any clothing at all. Won't you help me undress—"

Kurama pressed her into the mattress, burying his face into her neck. A cry caught in her throat, and before she knew it, she was drowning in him. His hands spread pulsing fire from somewhere low and deep. His lips pressed into the side of her neck, his hair falling around them like a veil. He intertwined their fingers together, trapped her hand over her head.

"Kurama…" she was breathless.

He pulled her shirt up, and his mouth found the dip of her chest between her breasts. Her body was suddenly hot, so very hot with his breath. Her face flushed red, and spread to her chest. Her hands found his hair, grasping for anything to bring him even closer.

"…Kurama…" she groaned, "…my love…"

His hand ran down her side and squeezed her thigh. He hooked his palm under her knee, hiking it up over his hip, opening her like a flower and allowing his lower body to press against hers.

A breathless moan escaped from her lips. He'd barely touched her, but it had been so, so long. He rose over her, and bent to trail heated kisses from the inside of her knee up, up her thigh. He nipped lightly at the supple flesh there, brushing his fingers across the waistband of her shorts. He teased the dip of her hipbone just the way she liked, and she bit her lip to keep from melting into the sheets.

She tried to gauge his own pleasure showing on his face. He wasn't looking at her. He wasn't looking at anything. His own eyes were squeezed shut.

"Kurama… stop."

Suddenly, her mind was clear.

"Stop! Waitstopstopstop—"

He bolted upright, hands raised. His hair was a mess, and his chest was heaving with labored breath. Ikuna swore that his wild eyes didn't quite belong to him, less green so much as yellow. Her chest rose and fell with his as she struggled to prop herself on her elbows.

"What are…" she sucked in a deep breath and looked at him, really looked at him soberly, "What are you doing?"

He glanced away, "I…"

"You were trying to force me to feed from you," she pulled her shirt back down.

He settled back onto his heels, sitting before her, "Yes."

She felt her mouth drop open, horrified. She shook her head incredulously, "Why?"

"Onna," he moved to sit next to her, shamefaced, "You know why."

She said nothing, just laid back into the mattress and reached up to her horns again, covering the intimacy of her flushed face from his view.

"I didn't have any idea of what I could possibly do for you. This was the last thing I could think of," he said quietly.

"You damn fool," she whispered, close to tears, "You gave half of your life energy to save your human mother, why would I ever take your… Ah… You…" she whacked him on the arm, a rabbit's punch to a fox. He smiled without humor. She took a deep breath, silently daring him to speak again. After a few minutes of tense silence, she sighed.

"Come on, then," she said, "Lie down with me."

"Right now?"

"Yes, right now. Help me under the blankets."

He pulled the duvet back for her and laid her down on her side of the bed. She watched him walk around to the other side and tentatively lie down over the blanket. The absurdity of his careful distance after having just had his mouth all over her body struck her and a fit of giggles bubbled up from her chest.

Kurama turned on his side to face her, trying to assess whether her mirth was cause for concern. He felt himself begin to well up with laughter, too.

"You are such an idiot!" Ikuna howled.

"I just—heh—I just honestly didn't know what else to do with you," Kurama covered his face. She reached for one of his hands, holding it while their bodies shook with uproarious laughter. They calmed, and once the humor died he trained his eyes on hers, "Onna, can you blame me?"

She offered a half-smile, "No. No, I cannot," she brushed some hair from his eyes. Eyes he was fighting to keep open, "You must be exhausted," she said.

"I wish you could see the irony of your concern," he said. Ikuna knew it wasn't entirely sarcastic. He curled around himself, tucking his head into his chest as he did when he was but a fox.

After a moment, "I don't think I can sleep."

She ran her fingers through his hair soothingly, "Busy mind?"

He sighed, "Yes."

She wondered what was troubling him. His mission from Koenma to check in on something, or… whatever just transpired.

"Would you like for me to help you sleep, my love?" she asked.

He shook his head, "Don't expend your energy. It'll pass."

She huffed quietly, "You know that I have other ways of putting you to sleep," she murmured. She felt him tense, "Other than _those_ ways," she pressed a smile against the top of his head.

"Could you…" he hesitated.

"Sing to you? It has been a long time, hasn't it? You didn't used to be this shy about asking."

"As I recall, I never had to."

"Hmmm. Yes, you're right. You never had to. Though, I wasn't sure if you ever really wanted it or not."

"I always fell asleep, didn't I?"

"Yes, but," she cradled his head, just as she used to, "I could never quite read you. I never knew if I was help or hindrance."

Kurama remained silent.

"But, that's all in the past," she said. She idly stroked his hair, keeping her other hand clasped in his. She began hummed a lullaby, her voice silken and clear with hundreds of years of practice. She softly sang an old song about a man who fell in love with the flower daughter of the master of mountains. When the master of mountains offered for him to marry both his flower daughter and his rock daughter, the man chose only the flower daughter he loved so dearly. The mountain master cursed his refusal, and the man was inflicted with a shortened life. Before Ikuna could fabricate some semblance of a happy ending, Kurama finally stilled.

She listened for the tell-tale deepening of his breath. It sounded nearly the same as it did all those hundreds of years ago. However, now his breathing was slower, deeper. It was the breathing of a man unconcerned about death in that moment. She pulled away to study his face. Every pore and eyelash she committed to memory. She silently prayed to nothing in particular that she never forget this moment of peace. Kurama's chest rose and fell. His hair spilled over the pillow, catching the moonlight from the window. His hand was warm in hers.

Without entirely knowing why, she began to take. His hand grew hotter, coaxed by her command, and she felt the heat spreading like a slow fire through her own hand and into her arm. She stopped herself almost as quickly as she started, and allowed Kurama's essence to permeate her chest and head. Her body grew lighter, more attuned to the environment. She felt more alive. She sat up, cautious of waking her bed partner, and flipped the end of the blanket so that it covered him like a little sandwich pocket. He never liked being cold when he slept. She didn't let herself dwell on the whys of what she'd done, or the consequences if Kurama found out. Would he be okay with it? Would he ask her to expand on her reasons for refusing his vitality and then taking it anyway? She blocked the thoughts and kissed the peak of his cheekbone.

"Thank you," she whispered, "And I'm sorry."

She settled back down and fell into a dreamless sleep.

 **End Chapter** **11**

* * *

Noodle Note: Chapter edited for clarity.

One of the things I wish I could share with you guys (besides the whys of why she did what she did) is my story outline. I have some weird shorthand in that file. One of my favorites is when I indicate to myself what Yuki-Onna and Kurama were thinking when they started ~doing it~. It's all just very silly and sometimes I can't take myself seriously.

Anyways, see you next chapter.


	12. 12

**Running Together**

Chapter 12: Around Town...

* * *

"Suichi, you look pale."

Kurama lifted his heavy head and smiled reassuringly at his mother, "I didn't sleep very well last night," he said. His mother stood from her seat and rounded the table to press a hand to his forehead.

"Why, Suichi you feel cooler than usual!"

Kokoda regarded him over his breakfast, "You sleep in your girlfriend's fridge last night, bro?"

"I kicked the covers off," Kurama said sheepishly, "Must have been a bad dream. Ah—Mother, I'm alright, I promise."

Shiori was pressing her hands against his cheeks and hands, worriedly checking his temperature over and over, "Kazuya, doesn't Suichi look ill?"

His stepfather set down his coffee and looked over Kurama with an appraising stare. Kurama felt himself growing embarrassed at all the sudden attention from his family.

"You _are_ looking sick, Suichi," Kazuya finally said, "Do you think you're coming down with something? You were pushing yourself pretty hard with your studies."

"It could be because he stayed out all night at his girlfriend's," Kokoda snickered.

 _No matter what comes after this life… I hope I am never again blessed with a sibling,_ Kurama thought with forced patience. Shiori and Kazuya had been married for a little over three years, and for as much affection as Kurama held for his expanded family, having a brother had proven to be an… adjustment. Even with all his practice around Kazuma and Yusuke he still found the jabs and jeers a tad irksome.

Shiori refilled Kurama's cup, "When are we going to meet this Ms. Ikuna, Suichi?" she asked teasingly. _That's not likely…_

"What did you say her family name was?" Kazuya asked. _Actually, she doesn't have one…_

"Is she cute?" Kokoda leered at Kurama. _Well, yes, but…_

He held up his hands defensively, "P-Please, I…" he sprang up, "I just remembered I had to go to the university today. If you'll excuse me…"

"But bro, you're on break!"

"It's—ah—it's an extracurricular," Kurama replied over his shoulder as he hurried down the hall. He slipped his feet into his shoes.

"Suichi," his mother touched his elbow gently. He didn't realize she was following him.

"Yes, mother?"

She clutched her chest. She looked concerned, "When… when I was still carrying you, I'd fallen ill for a few weeks… The same as you now. The doctors couldn't figure out what it was… It went away, but I often wonder if that's what made me so sick later…" she trailed off, searching his face with her pleading eyes, "Please, my son. Please take care of yourself. I worry about you." She pulled him into a tight hug.

He wrapped his arms around her and returned the embrace three fold, "I promise," he rested his cheek against his mother's head, "I'll take care of myself."

Shiori pulled away, seemingly satisfied, "And bring your friend around for dinner when she's feeling up to it. I think it's wonderful that you're taking the time to help her around the house," she gave his arms an affectionate squeeze, "My kind and gentle son. I can't wait to meet her."

Kurama gave her a fond smile, "I'll be sure to tell her."

"Better make it quick," Kokoda called from the dining room, "or Shiori's gonna plan the wedding without you!"

"We're not—" Kurama started to object, but thought better of it. He kissed his mother on the cheek, and with an exasperated sigh he ducked out of the house. Shiori shot Kokoda a withering look from across the hall.

Kokoda suddenly became engrossed in his breakfast, ears tipped red.

Kazuya looked from his son to Shiori and shrugged, "Well, he didn't outright _deny_ it."

"Hey, Kazuma! You better have your ass up before I leave," Shizuru burst into Kuwabara's bedroom and opened the window shades, "I know it's your break and all, but I'm not gonna let you sleep all day. You gotta study ahead or see your friends or _something_ ," she turned toward him. He was still fast asleep, spread out across the bed with Eikichi curled up against his side. He looked peaceful.

She whacked him over the head, "HEY, are you listening to me!?"

Kuwabara cried out and rolled off the bed, holding the spot where Shizuru's fist had collided with his skull, "Damn, sis, couldn't you wake me up with like a hug or something for once?" he stood and rubbed his head, "What time is it, anyways?"

"It's nine. Plenty late enough for you to be up and at 'em." Satisfied that Kuwabara was out of bed, Shizuru started to leave the room, "I left something for you to eat in the kitchen."

"Hey, uh, wait where are you going?"

"Me and Botan are gonna pop over and see Ikuna today. Wanna come?"

Kuwabara blinked, "Uh, I mean yeah if that's okay with you."

"Cool," Shizuru tossed him a small smile, "Get dressed because I'm leaving right now." She breezed through the room and back into the hallway.

"Wait what about breakfast!?" Kuwabara whined, scrambling to get some pants on.

"Do you want to visit or not?" Shizuru called from the hallway.

He smoothed his hair into place and followed after her, "I mean, yeah, I'm just saying there could be room for compromise."

Yusuke poked his head into the room Botan was staying in. Sometimes she was there in his mom's apartment, and sometimes she was off on work doing who knows what. With all they'd been through, he was pretty sure she'd graduated from grim reaper.

"Hey, I'm gonna go grab Keiko from the diner."

She looked up from unrolling the curlers from her hair, "You're up early, Yusuke. I thought you had the day off today."

He leaned against the doorframe and rubbed his neck, "Yeah I do, but I figured I'd go by her place early before she ends up helping her parents. You know her, once she starts working she won't stop."

"Are you planning on going on a date today?" Botan asked cheekily.

"I-I mean, well, yeah," he replied bashfully, "I never got to take her out to celebrate passing her exams. She's pretty close to finishing school and all..."

Botan leaned back in her vanity chair, "Maybe you should take her on a trip. Just the two of you! Perhaps a… romantic hot spring retreat?"

Yusuke spun away and grumbled a response, his ears and neck turning red. Botan had been pressing him more and more about his relationship with Keiko, and as much as he appreciated Botan as one of his best friends, it was starting to wear on his nerves.

She gave him a serious look, carefully choosing her next words, "Yusuke, it's been three years, you know—"

"Yeah, and?"

"Well, it's just…" she twiddled her fingers, "don't you think you and Keiko should be getting serious?"

"What? We're serious!"

"I know that!" she raised her hands at his outburst, "It's just… well, you know."

Yusuke glowered at her, "No, I don't know," he crossed his arms defensively, and Botan knew she had to tread lightly. She looked like she was deciding something. "Botan…"

She squeaked.

He leveled his eyes at her, waiting for her to crack, "I don't like being confused. What are you getting at?"

"Ohhhh—" she puffed out her cheeks, "Keiko told us that you haven't had sex yet and—"

"God damn it!" Yusuke cried, bracing himself against the door, "I have a lot of complicated feelings going on right now, and I'm pretty sure none of them are good!"

Botan covered her mouth with her sleeve. She enjoyed teasing her less… emotionally intelligent friends—Yusuke—and was especially delighted by his chagrined response to this topic. She knew, though, that she had to guide him to a solution this time instead of just riling him up.

"Yusuke, you know… She thinks that you don't find her attractive."

He reeled in shock, "What that's crazy! I think she's a damn goddess! Like, that's—" he growled in frustration, brows knitting together. His eyes stuck to the floor. "I can't believe I'm talking to you of all people about this. Especially since I _know_ —" he fixed a glare to Botan who shrank back, "—I know you're gonna go tell your little girl group. Agh! She didn't say anything in front of Ikuna, did she?"

Botan couldn't fight the grin spreading across her face, "And Shizuru."

"Oh my god!" he threw his head back, his hands up in the air, "I can't believe she—I mean of course I…" he took a couple paces to the side, "Okay, what all did she say? I need specifics, here…."

At some point in the night, in the realm between waking and sleep, Ikuna heard a deep draw of breath and the rustling of bedding. When she finally rose from the depths of slumber and opened her eyes, the space next to her had long gone cold. Henry hopped up onto the bed and rubbed his head against Ikuna's outstretched hand, purring a good morning. Sunlight filtered through the window, setting the edges of his fur aglow.

Ikuna sucked in a breath and sat up. Moving was easy, just as it should be. She lowered her feet down to the cool wood floor, and stood. She was rock steady, unwavering, vibrant, and alert. She felt more alive than she'd felt in decades, it seemed. Possibly more. She hadn't realized how groggy her mind had been for all those year until that very moment. She felt smart as a whip, and so very attentive. How had she ever been able to live that old, dull way?

A guilty pang twisted in her stomach. _Kurama_ … she thought, _This is because I took from him. After I had just refused him. I took from him while he was sleeping. I stole from him. I stole from him as I have stolen from so many others before him. What if I couldn't stop myself? I could have killed him. I could have—_

She sank to the floor, squeezing and twisting her fingers around her horns, "No, no, none of that," she muttered. Despite her attempts to quell the thoughts, her knees shrank against her chest. Henry hopped down from the bed and meowed at her, pressing himself against her side and curling his tail around her leg.

"Henry, not now please," she shooed him away. He stepped away for a moment, then moseyed over to paw at her feet, "Henry, no," she said with a firm swat. He persisted in the game, this time doubling back to stretch his sharp claws at her face.

"Henry, _STOP_ ," she snatched him up and tossed him away from her, with more force than she intended. Henry knocked into the corner of the dresser and skittered away. Ikuna flopped back against the bed and immediately felt even more guilt weighing down on her.

"Henry… Henry I am so sorry, I…" she trailed off, pressing a hand against her mouth, "I don't even have a typical stomach. Why do I always get this way when I'm anxious?" she sighed and stood to look for her cat, "Henry, darling, please come back. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. Henry?"

She found him near the balcony door, licking his side where he'd slammed into the dresser. She scooped him up, running her hand over his body. He appeared to have forgiven her and he didn't seem to be in any pain, but that didn't make her feel any better about the exchange. He wiggled out of her arms, and she opened the door to the chill morning air for him to go out.

She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms against the cold, "To think I found you in an alley only a couple of months ago. You're already so accepting of your master's mercurial tendencies." She watched him sit on the balcony rail and lick himself. His tail twitched, and Ikuna was sure it was in agitation. She sighed again, resolving to spend the day feeling sorry for herself and for Henry.

 _And for Kurama_. The thought crossed her mind, uninvited and insistent. She chewed on the inside of her cheek and went back inside. The apartment was a bit messy, but Ikuna could spot a few places where Kurama had straightened up before he left. She wondered where he went. He didn't have class today as far as she was aware. He was on break. Maybe he needed a change of clothes. Does that mean he would be back? Does she want him to come back? She wouldn't know what to say to him. Admitting to the act would open up discussions about her muddled feelings regarding her feeding. She hadn't fully relented to his and Shizuru's pleas to stay alive. She could simply tell him the truth… that she felt terrible about sipping from the spring of life that he held in his beautiful body.

Her heart skipped, her lower abdomen spreading with heat. Her senses burned at the memory of his hands around her wrists, his mouth on her skin, his hair in her grasp. She could almost taste his labored breath. Her fingers grazed the spot on her neck where he had buried his face. Was that shame he had felt then? Was he hiding his eyes from her? She pushed it all out of her head. He hadn't kissed her, hadn't really touched any part of her that any gentleman wouldn't. That was an act of duty. It was just like him to be so self-sacrificing.

She sat on the couch and worried her horns. How was he feeling this morning, she wondered. Was he is any pain? Was he feeling sluggish? When she would feed on humans, they would always wake feeling as if they had never slept at all. That feeling would grow and grow as Ikuna took from them night after night until they didn't wake at all. She shuttered, _And that was the humane way of doing it. More often, I would lose control and eat them in entirety all at once_. She would leave their corpses in their beds right next to their loved ones.

Ikuna bolted to her feet and fervently gathered up empty bottles and glasses from the table. Memories and anxiety clawed at her back and clutched her ankles as she whirled about the apartment, tossing cushions back where they belonged, tossing bottles in a bin. Her shaking hands clumsily washed and rinsed glasses, slipping in her grip and clattering into the sink. They threatened to shatter but didn't. She scrubbed the bathroom top to bottom, feeling her delicate hands going raw. She grew tired, not from lack of energy, but from the work she put into escaping her thoughts. She blew into her bedroom like a whirlwind, straightening the bed covers and pointedly avoiding the scent of Kurama's hair on the pillows. She collected her clothes from the floor and stuffed them into a bag. She halted. Her nerves still buzzed like pins, but her thoughts were finally quiet.

With forced composure, she dressed and hefted the laundry bag. She was going to the coin laundry down the street. She needed to get out of the house for a bit.

 **End Chapter 12**

* * *

Noodle Note: I lived, bitch.

Yoooo I've been away for, what, ten months? I wanna say my bad, but real life has been kicking my ass. Wife shit and job shit and all that.

Look, whether you're a new reader or an old reader I want you to know how much it means to me that you're here on this chapter right now. This whole story started as a weird dream I had, and after so many starts and stops, you're still here. You can't even imagine how awesome that is to me.

So, it would behoove you to read back to the first chapter. I edited all eleven other chapters, clarifying and revising passages and fixing grammar and spelling errors we all missed. It should be and easier read now. I also added a sweet little scene in chapter 11 that I thought of a couple days ago while pouring over my pages.

Anyways, I'll see you next chapter. Ikuna and I still have so much more to tell you.


	13. 13

**Running Together**

Chapter 13: A Long Time Past...

* * *

Yuki-Onna stared hungrily. The object of her attention tinkled in the hair of a dangerous woman. But was she dangerous, or was she dangerous because of who she stood by? Her husband—known simply as The Hunter—was away in the forest, hunting as a hunter does. He caught the track of a lowly demon. Easy pickings. A perfect distraction. It serves them right, being so easily fooled.

Yuki-Onna, or Onna as some began to call her, crouched low, eyeing the wife. Looks could be deceiving. And yet, she doesn't look at all like she's fought anything stronger than a tangled bed sheet.

"Succubus."

The voice sharply drew her to attention. She looked over her shoulder.

Kurama towered over her, a solid foot or so taller than her. Standing next to him made her feel foolish, like a child.

"The woman does not appear threatening," she said feebly. Kurama was no fool. With his hands already full with Yomi's reckless actions, he had little patience for any other rogue thieves. Yomi was important, close to Kurama and generally loyal. Kurama was willing to work with him. Yuki-Onna was nothing to him, and he already had her literal heart in his control. One wrong move and his plants would split her open like soft earth.

"You're not here to scout, succubus," Kurama said cooly, "You're here to prove your worth." He his yellow eyes drew up the hill to the castle in the trees. The plan was simple enough. A small squad of men were to follow Yuki-Onna up to the wall and slip through. Once inside, she was to knock out an entire squad of guards. They gathered for a debriefing during shift changes, once a week. Once the debriefing was finished, they would disperse to their separate posts making it much more difficult to disarm them quickly. The alarms would sound, the other guards would deploy, and worst of all—the security system would kick in, locking all loot deep inside of the building until every intruder was apprehended or killed.

The entire strategy hinged on the timing of Yuki-Onna's squad. If she missed her window, the whole operation changed for the worse, and they would have to fall back, lying in wait for the next opportunity. They could simply wait another week, but what made this particular night so special was the new moon. With the moon cast in shadow the night fell into a deafening darkness, perfect for stealth. The dim light would leave the guards second-guessing themselves. Was that a trick of shadow they saw? A shrub blowing in the breeze? They would be too busy doubting their senses to commit to a thorough patrol on this night.

The hunter and his wife entered the stronghold through the broad front door. It groaned to a close and echoed through the trees.

Kurama's men sprinted forward at once, footfalls light and silent. Yuki-Onna trailed behind like a ghost in the snow. She wasn't as light, wasn't as quiet, but she was keeping up. Still, Kurama wondered if she would make it in time. He didn't need an excuse to kill her, but he was willing to give her a chance to prove useful.

Her reputation preceded her, but he could admit that so far he was marginally underwhelmed. Her dreams were startlingly powerful, and on more than one occasion he'd witnessed her drop someone with a pass of her hand. She wasn't exactly adjusting smoothly to her life amongst his ranks, though by little fault of her own. Her first night with them had held numerous attempts on her life and her body. He lost a man that night to her wrath. He had watched her, her clawed fingers clenched around the jaw of a helpless attacker. Her lips crushed his, and he could see the life visibly leaving her attacker's body. He can't say he was sorry for either of them. When she was finished, she'd dropped the corpse, her face unfeeling, unsettling. The men around her shuffled back, tripping over others felled by her sleep ability.

He was finally able to pick apart how she could do that. It wasn't psychic, but wicked all the same. She coated her body in a potent powder and used her own energy to thrust it off of her skin and into the respiratory system of her enemy. She appeared to keep a small pouch of it in the sleeve of her dominant hand, using those reserves if she ever ran out. So far he wasn't able to discern what composition of herbs she used, but he was determined to find out, if only to give himself another edge over her.

After a few moments a second squad, lead by him, sprung into action. They charged forward a short distance and all pressed against the trees, watching Yuki-Onna's squad round the side of the wall and leap over. One squatted in front of the wall, as planned, and linked her fingers together to form a foothold. Yuki-Onna stepped into her hands and she launched her into the air. Kurama gazed up at her in the night, a phantom in glittering robes careening against the inky sky. The image was enchanting, and he realized that he had caught a brief glimpse of the Yuki-Onna in the days before the Makai barrier, back when she leaped through the stormy night and crashed down upon the wandering and lost.

She and the final squad member disappeared over the wall, Kurama's group lying in wait in the trees. A bird sounded from inside the courtyard—the signal that all was clear and it was time to proceed.

Kurama gave the go ahead for his own squad to climb over the wall. Their feet landed with soft thumping against the earth. They all stayed hunched down near the edge of the yard. An easy thirty guards all lay sprawled with armor askew and weapons strewn about. At the center of them all was Yuki-Onna, sitting on her knees and meditating.

"Tch. Pull her up," he ordered. The bandit nearest her looked uncomfortable, but obliged. She wrenched Yuki-Onna up by the arm, and Yuki-Onna woke with bleary eyes.

"Wha… What have you done?" she said blearily and tugged her arm away from the bandit as her senses came to.

"We don't have time for your little mind games, succubus," he said, regarding the fallen guards. He was impressed at how quickly they were neutralized, but playing around in their dreams was an unnecessary use of time. He acknowledged the scout clambering down from the roof of the main building. They padded over carefully across the top of the wall, apprehensive of being spotted, and dropped to a crouch near Kurama.

"The other guards are back to their quarters."

"The hunter?"

"The hunter's had dinner sent to his rooms. His mistress is walking around the halls, though," they looked at him waiting for a plan. The guards could be isolated easily, but Kurama was recently reminded of the dangers of underestimating a woman. The mistress could prove a threat. She was supposed to be with the hunter, as she has been at this time every night for the last three months of observation.

No matter. Kurama had planned for this. He began drawing a layout of each floor in the dirt. He began issuing tasks.

"You two will accompany the succubus to the guard quarters, as initially planned, and you will trail behind to keep watch for any stragglers," he drew arrows moving towards the lower levels, "The shifter will keep the mistress occupied. Pose as a guard, seduce her, whatever you must do to keep her away from the artifact chamber, but do not harm her. Scout, what room is the hunter in?" The scout marked an X in the dirt where the hunter was, You three," he pointed to a couple others, "will isolate the hunter. Remember, he is dangerous, and knows how to disarm and kill each of us without having to think about it. If his mistress is walking about without him, he may leave his rooms to try and find her. Make sure that doesn't happen.

The twins will come with me. We'll be breaking into the artifacts chamber. Does everyone understand their role?"

Yuki-Onna spoke, "Kurama, it would be wiser to utilize my talents in taking down the hunter—"

Kurama snatched her jaw. He stared daggers directly into her eyes, and he could feel her body stiffen, "You will do as you are told, succubus. This is not a collaboration," he said tightly. The other bandits shifted uncomfortably around them. After a moment, Yuki-Onna pulled away from his grip and clenched her teeth. She looked away from him.

Satisfied that she was put in her place, Kurama gave the signal to move.

The teams split off, climbing up the roof and slipping into different windows. They looked like insects on a carcass, beady dots crawling up the walls in the darkness. Kurama and his two men ducked through a window and ran down the hall, steps quieter than a breeze. They peeked around a corner. All clear. He opened his senses, listening for any breath other than their own. Nothing. He nodded to the others and they continued on passed the next few halls and down a flight of stairs. This floor didn't have windows. The floor was where the treasure was.

They paused right before the foot of the stairs, and again Kurama listened.

"I thought all of the guards were put away for the night," a smooth voice crooned from down the hall.

"Well, my lady," the shifter's voice drifted down the hall. Kurama heard the clattering of armor as he moved towards them. The shifter continued, "I heard that you may be in need of accompaniment."

"You forget yourself, guard. Perhaps I preferred the solitude."

"This is no time for a lady to walk alone, mistress."

"Are you implying that I am in danger, guard?"

"On the contrary, mistress," the shifter said, "I believe _you_ are the danger."

 _Smooth._

He heard their footsteps start towards the staircase. Kurama's eyes widened and he hurriedly searched about. If they're coming this way, then they only have so much time to hide before they're heard or spotted. Back up the stairs? They could end up wasting valuable time running _away_ from the mistress' promenade about the castle. Down another hall? She would hear them scrambling for cover. Kurama looked up. He motioned for the other two to follow his lead. He hopped up and shimmied his way up the walls, wedging himself into place with his feet and shoulder blades. The twins looked at each other. They were smaller than Kurama—most of his team was—and likely wouldn't be able to reach both walls on their own. They nodded to each other, and with quickly leaned against each other and shuffled up the wall next to him. Kurama was certain this wasn't the first time they've had to do this.

The mistress and the shifter were approaching the stairs. Kurama knew this was a risky move, and as much as he didn't want to he was prepared to have her killed to save the heist. Though, he would rather steal what they came for without anyone ever even knowing. That was the real draw here. The challenge.

The two began climbing the staircase, side by side, their flirtatious banter keeping the mistress's attention focused on the shifter. The shifter had molded his face to look less monstrous and more anthropomorphic, changed his grey skin to a flushed peach. He actually looked handsome. The shifter's eyes widened, and he briefly tilted his head up to look at Kurama and his group. His face broke into a goofy grin before he snapped back to attention.

The mistress caught him as they reached the top of the stairs, "What are you smiling about—" she turned back to where the shifter had glanced up, and Kurama could see the whites of her eyes before the shifter spun her around and crushed his mouth against hers. She stiffened, and for a moment the three of them wedged between the walls were certain that this would be the day the shifter's charms would finally fail. But her shoulders relaxed, and she snaked her arms around his shoulders.

"Come with me," she said breathlessly, and with a covert wink from the shifter to his fellow bandits they spirited away down the hall.

Kurama shook his head with a wry smile. The shifter had once said that he could charm anyone, and so far he was not wrong. He and his two men shambled down the wall and stole into the artifact level. He briefly wondered what the mistress was doing here to begin with. Was she patrolling? Was she like Shangha-sha's wife—a guard hiding in plain sight? He thought back to the mistress's tryst with the shifter. Perhaps she's considering running off with a few treasures to sell off for herself. No matter, the shifter will keep her occupied and that's all that matters.

Two rights and a left later, Kurama reached the door leading to the artifacts room. If his intel was correct, the door looming over him is not the only one he'll have to get through. This one was ornate with a series of locks inlayed with precious stones and set into different points in the door. They must be turned in a specific order in order for the door to unlock. The next one—supposedly—only required one very specific key. Kurama was certain that whatever that key was, he'd be able to replicate it and pick the lock with ease.

He got to work. The twins took posts on opposite sides of the hall, using their ultrasonic hearing to monitor where the nearest bodies were where they were going. Each was deaf in one ear from an accident they never bothered explaining. Kurama's skilled fingers maneuvered picks in and out of the different locks, twisting and testing before moving onto the next. There were ten locks in all. The first one released, shifting gears set deep within the door with loud groans. He froze. The twins hitched up their shoulders at the agonizingly loud sound, but they listened on. He grimaced. Someone was bound to hear these locks. He didn't account for the sounds, didn't ask about the sound. He'll have to work fast.

"It goes without saying that you will alert me once something gets within 100 meters of us in any direction, that includes through the floors." He ordered. The twins nodded and crouched low to pick up more sounds in the vertical plane. Kurama got back to work on the locks, releasing another two locks, both reverberating through the halls like a haunt. He paused to allow the twins to adjust to the quiet and started again. Seven more to go.

"Hostile two floors down at northwest."

His hands froze. He waited for the twin on the left to indicate that the faceless enemy had passed out of the bubble of sound. The minutes felt like hours, with each passing moment increasing their risk of getting caught.

 _The horned succubus should have disabled the other guards by now_ , he thought to himself, _If we were to be caught in this position, we would still have the upper hand._

"Clear."

Kurama immediately began his work again, not a sound in the hallway but the clicking of picks rubbing against the pins of the locks. Another two locks release, another two breaths of waiting for everything to go sideways. The door glinted under Kurama's passing shadow, his hands shooting up and over, down and to the right, ear pressed to the metal. He winced as another lock released. This time the vines carved into the door begin shifting position, causing an even louder grating sound to bounce down the hallways.

"Two one floor up—""—one, our floor, seventy four meters—" they spoke over each other, calling the position of potential threats making their way to their location.

 _This is what you wanted,_ Kurama thought. He smirked to himself. The treasure was great, but the thrill is what captivated him, brought him back over and over like a selfish lover. His nerves stood completely on end, and he was addicted to it.

"They've met at the stairs—" "—five at the stairs."

Kurama hurriedly plucked his picks from the different locks, willing the first five to remain unlocked, and locking the sixth to set the door's decorations back to baseline. The previous five locks followed suit, shutting tightly with soft clanks in succession. He scowled, baring his teeth and swearing to himself. By now he had memorized the order in which the first six locks were to be released, but that didn't make up for lost time, or the cacophony of metal on metal. He motioned for the twins to round the corner with him just as he heard footsteps sounding down the staircase. He didn't need the twin's sensory abilities to pick out their three different sets of footfalls. What were these people even _doing_ walking about the castle? It was dinner for the guards, and in fact, all guards should have been knocked out by now. He knew that either the succubus failed, or the hunter knew they were there. He gritted his teeth and gripped a few long, stiff bamboo leaves between his knuckles. He was certain that they were in danger, but he thought it best to verify that these three guards actually knew they were there. Afterall, why send only three when five guards had met upstairs?

The guards murmured between themselves, "Do you think it was the master?" one asked. Kurama assumed they were speaking about the hunter. Another answered.

"Could be. He's been going in there a lot lately, trying to keep the locks greased and all." They stopped in front of the artifacts door, and Kurama imagined that they were fingering the lines of the metal, checking for tampering, but he had left no trace.

"I didn't hear the other locks, but he's lightning quick."

"Quit yappin' and help me lock this bitch up all the way."

"Won't the master be mad?"

"What—no you idiot, why would he be mad that we reinforced it? We're keeping his shit safe."

"Oh, I guess you're right."

The hall vibrated with the sounds of additional grating and clicking. Kurama could assume that the door was being locked up further. Even more security measures? How did they miss that detail? Was he losing his touch? Ever since Kuronue was slaughtered in a failed heist, Kurama had tightened up his methods, staking out targets, planning carefully, recruiting additional help. He took a pay cut, but the extra members opened up a wealth of possibilities.

But here they were, pinned in a castle, their sole reason for being here being locked up to the point where Kurama knew that continuing on with this endeavor would inevitably lead to capture. His earlier confidence left, and he knew he had to choose. Comb the castle, collecting his men and retreating for another night?

Or slay the hunter and steal his arm, risking capture and death?

The guards sounded back down the hall, the twins gave the signal that all was clear and the guards were out of earshot of their movements. They looked at him, awaiting his orders. They knew that this heist was turning into a lost cause, too.

Suddenly both twins bolted upright, eyes wide.

"What? What is it?" Kurama commanded.

"The hunter found Shifter—" "—Shifter's been slain in the mistress's quarters."

Kurama cursed. Things were just getting worse. What happened to the three who were supposed to be distracting the hunter? If Kurama hurried, he could catch and debilitate him before the guards were alerted. "Stay here. If you hear signs of guards looking for us, run and tell the others to escape," he said and dashed off. He'd studied the layout of the castle enough to know exactly where to go. He jumped up entire flights of stairs and sprinted through halls.

He halted in front of the open door. He heard the sounds of struggle inside. The shifter lay on the floor directly inside the entryway, back to his original form. His throat was slashed open, exposing its insides like a flower. The mistress was splayed out on the floor not too far from him, holding her robes closed with wide, terrified eyes. The hunter stood in the center of the room, so much larger in relation to Yuki-Onna's hunched body. He had her bent over at the waist, binding her arms behind her back with one hand. She screwed her face up in terror as she strained her throat as far from the hunter's knife as she could.

"Unhand her," Kurama said flatly. In truth he wasn't entirely sure if he cared either way whether she was spared or slain, "if for no other reason than to give yourself a fair chance at defeating me."

The hunter straightened his back and squared his shoulders, but never loosening his grip on Yuki-Onna's arms. Bands of glowing purple circled her wrists, crushing them together. _I'll have to be careful of that_ , Kurama thought.

"I wouldn't hesitate to open the neck of my wife's attacker on any other day, but seeing as she invited a stranger into her bed—a thief no less..." he released Yuki-Onna. She lost her balance, hitting the floor face first with a crack. He continued, "I'm willing to put her execution off until I'm finished with yours."

Yuki-Onna twisted her battered body onto her side. She was drenched in water and bleeding. Her hair clung to her makeup stained face, and Kurama saw that the cracking he'd heard when she'd fell was one of her painted horns snapping off. Her kimono was torn with what looked to be knife slashes. Had the hunter been toying with her? She must have attempted to put up a fight against him, but it's clear that he knew exactly how to disable her. This fight might be longer than he's expected.

He relished the challenge.

Both he and the hunter shifted their weight, and watched each other. Neither made a move to attack. It wasn't in Kurama's nature to strike first in direct combat, but he was certain the longer they stood, the more time the hunter had to study him and draw on his knowledge of the yoko.

Kurama beamed hardened leaves at the hunter's face and feigned to the side. The hunter kept his guard and dashed to meet him, as if he anticipated this maneuver. Kurama lashed out with his Demonic Vine, and the hunter parried with a swing of his knife and reached for Kurama's hands. Kurama jumped back and charged to the side again, trying to catch the hunter off guard. He whirled on Kurama, hopping back to lighten the blow of blade on blade. Kurama whipped a vine at his opponent who dodged to the side just barely avoiding the snap. Kurama smirked in satisfaction as the hunter's knife split in half. The hunter rushed forward, and Kurama raised his guard, waiting for him to reveal his next move. The hunter swung at Kurama with a right hook, and the demon fox knew that it was only a vain attempt at a distraction. He lifted his demonic vine in anticipation.

The hunter threw down a flash pellet.

Kurama reared back with a snarl and covered his eyes. Darkness spotted his vision. _Fuck._

The hunter clutched Kurama's arms and twisted them behind his back. Kurama felt a buzzing and then a tight binding around his arms and legs. He struggled to keep to his feet as his ankles snapped together. He blinked rapidly to return his eyesight. A glowing band appeared about his neck and connected to his arms, wrenching his head back. With his chest bowing out and his throat exposed, he felt more vulnerable than he'd ever been before. His mind began to race through tactics and escape plans.

"What have you done to me," Kurama croaked.

The hunter swiftly rounded and gripped Kurama's jaw, knife poised to open his neck, "You won't be alive long enough for me to tell you," he sneered, "I must commend you, Demon Fox. I didn't have the chance to enjoy playing with you before you forced my hand."

The succubus flung herself against the hunter's back, using her remaining horn to stab him in the shoulder. The hunter screamed a curse and in one swift motion spun around and backhanded her across the bruised face.

"You filthy bitch!" he bellowed. Yuki-Onna staggered back, but not far enough to avoid the hunter's knife as he buried it into her side. She cried out and crumpled to the ground.

His chest exploded from the back. He halted, stunned, and turned his head to look at Kurama whose hair was wrapped in the vines protruding from his chest. The binding flicked and sputtered out. Kurama rubbed his arms and drew forth his demonic vines once again. With a barely perceivable strike, he impaled the hunter's head through the neck. The mistress—forgotten until this moment—wailed in horror.

Kurama withdrew the vines from the corpse's neck and let it drop. Yuki-Onna stirred, labored breath grating from her mouth. She tried to stop the wound with her hands, but hot blood seeped through her fingers. Kurama watched, stone faced and unimpressed as she staggered to her feet.

"He…" she fought to steady her breathing. Kurama could tell that she was unaccustomed to injury. Typical. "He doused me in water… And bound my hands… I could not… I was unable to defend myself." Kurama said nothing in response. He stood steady as a stone, yellow eyes piercing her shaking body. Red bloomed across the side of her kimono, garish against the fine green embroidery. She straightened, as if being pulled up by a string, and awaited death or punishment.

"Tell me," he said pacing around her, "how it is that The Great Yuki-Onna—The Snow Vampire," he paused just behind her, and leaned into her ear, "couldn't manage to incapacitate a squadron of guards?"

Yuki-Onna's face twisted in chagrin, "I spin a dream for my victims when I lay them to sleep," she said tightly, "so that they sleep deeper and longer. During this dream weaving, I create a story as to why they fell asleep, giving me the advantage of remaining anonymous. I was _interrupted_ in this process. Being that they were trained to embody efficiency, they woke up quick, and they woke up suspicious. They began combing the halls for us before we could reach the guard quarters."

Kurama stood motionless behind her, looming over her like a shadow. Had he known this, had she told him of this process when they'd met, they wouldn't be bleeding in this room with one of his most valuable partners lying open just steps away. Still, he'd recklessly included her in the operation without bothering to obtain a thorough profile of her ability. He'd fumbled two different jobs because of her presence.

 _Get a hold of yourself_ , he thought, _You're acting irrationally for the simple sake of cruelty…_ In truth, his ego was bruised when she'd gotten the better of him back in the stronghold those few weeks ago. She was a snake dressed in robes, dangerous and alluring. And yet…

His eyes caught the glimmer of a jeweled pin on the floor. He strode over to it and stooped down to scoop it up. Pressed against the armoire not even an arm's reach away was the mistress, trembling in terror. He regarded her with a passive glance. She flinched.

"Is this what you were after?" he asked Yuki-Onna. She chanced a look at him.

"Yes," she dropped her gaze, "I stole away to collect it before our inevitable retreat."

He weighed the pin in his hand then held it to the lamplight to assess it's worth. The gems were authentic and expertly set into the gold. It glittered, appearing to shine with it's own internal light. It was beautiful, but to risk one's life for it—

"Pfft," he pocketed it and made his decision, "Clean up your mess—" he nodded to the whimpering mistress—"and wait for an escort back to camp. I'll send for you once the danger has been cleared."

She made a confused noise in response.

"Unless you'd rather stay here. Stop your bleeding. You're no use to me maimed," he said lightly and strode through the entryway.

Yuki-Onna stared at the floor for a few moments, frozen in place. Her life was spared? Her life was spared… She snapped to attention and whirled around to the mistress. The woman shrieked, long and haunting and echoing down the hall. Yuki-Onna, unable to use her sleep powders, opted for a violent stabbing instead.

 **End Chapter 13**

* * *

Noodle Note: Sorry it took so long for this chapter! The holidays and whatnot. I was hoping to release this chapter on Kurama's birthday (12/29), but I'm not used to writing technical scenes and combat, so this was a much needed challenge. Please call out any typos or weird grammar. My brain has been pretty foggy lately, so I've been missing a lot of dumb errors (here vs hear and such). Part of the reason why this chapter took so long was all the proofreading and revising I tried to do.

We'll be panning back over to Ikuna and Kurama pretending they don't like each other in the next chapter. Until then, thank you so much for the outpouring of love for my return! You guys are the sweetest and you make me want to keep on going.

See you next chapter.


	14. 14

**Running Together**

14: Outside of the Apartment...

* * *

Kurama squinted against the sunlight reflecting back from the large window, scanning for horns poking out of long black hair. There, poised against the washing machines with knitted brows was his addled Ikuna. An elderly woman stood near her, gesturing to different clothes with her cane. She pinched the fabric of Ikuna's sweater and skirt and compared them for her to see. Kurama couldn't hear from outside the coin laundry, but it looked as if she was explaining the garments to her. He chuckled fondly to himself.

Ikuna opened her mouth to speak to the woman, but paused. Her eyes flicked up and met Kurama's through the window. _Ah, she must have smelled me._ He gave her a friendly wave, and she smiled at him, but something in the set of her jaw told him that it wasn't entirely sincere. He sighed through his nose and opened the door to go inside. It was going to be a mental battle to get her to talk to him, but now that his eyes were adjusted to the florescent lights he could plainly see it would be a necessary conversation. He could spot multiple signs of vitality in her face alone, from her rosy cheeks and pink lips to her clear eyes piercing him from across the room.

The elderly woman followed Ikuna's gaze to Kurama, and smiled slyly. Ikuna fidgeted with one of her horns as he neared. He fought to keep his face impassive, but he couldn't help his surprise at her old nervous habit returning.

"Good morning, Onna," he turned to the old woman, "Good morning, grandmother. I hope my friend isn't troubling you. She isn't quite used to housework," he leaned forward conspiringly, "Spoiled as a child," he whispered.

Ikuna stiffened, but her tight smile eased. She snapped her hand from her horn to her side just as the woman's gaze slid towards her. Most humans—like Keiko—can't see her horns without some sort of gift, but she knew better than to fiddle with them out in public.

"Now, now, she's been no bother at all! Your friend here is quite the fast learner. It reminds me of teaching my own dimwitted daughter when she was young," Grandma said. Ikuna's face went cold and she said nothing, "In fact, I'm glad that she let me help her! Poor girl was standing there dumb as a post staring at the washing machines. I'm glad I caught her before she hurt herself!" she cackled. Kurama forced a laugh, but shifted his weight towards Ikuna. Old memories of her temper came hurling back at him, and he hoped against hope that she was wise enough to take the old woman's words with humor instead of offense. _We're older now_ , he pleaded silently, _Please don't lash out and make me stop you._ He couldn't quiet see her eyes through her hair, but Ikuna's rigid shoulders rose with a deep inhale.

To his astonishment, she whirled to meet his eyes and pouted, "She's telling the truth," she said crossing her arms, "I was comparing the directions on the machine to the directions on the soap and confused myself."

" _Detergent_ , young lady," Grandma corrected, "If you use regular soap, the suds will spill out all over the place."

Kurama covered his mouth and turned his head. If only this woman knew she was teasing the Yuki-Onna of legend. She wouldn't have lived to tell the tale a few hundred years ago, but now…

"Thank you for going through the trouble to teach me," Ikuna said, bowing to the woman.

Kurama pressed a warm hand to her back and bowed as well, "Yes, I know she can be a bit thick sometimes." Ikuna glowered at him.

"Anytime, dear. I'm happy to pass my knowledge down to the younger generation. Heaven knows you need it," the elderly woman gathered her finished laundry, "I trust you can take it from here, young man. You two take care, now," and with a warm smile, she left.

"'Younger generation,'" Ikuna simpered and turned to her clothes on the table.

Kurama laughed at the irony, "That was kind of her. I only wish I would have been here to see it. Yuki-Onna being scolded by a little old woman."

"She barreled toward me, Kurama!" Ikuna flung a hand over her forehead to feign distress, "She said she had gotten fed up watching me flounder, so she stormed over and yanked me to the side! Why, I'm still shaken up from the encounter."

"It's a miracle you're unharmed," Kurama said and sidled closer to help Ikuna separate her laundry. It looked like the old woman had started piles for her, "And what did Grandmother teach you?"

"Oh, all sorts of things," she held up a shirt and flipped the care tag up for inspection, "Did you know that all of these symbols tell you how to wash your clothes? Like here, this one means to use cold water only. And this one next to it means I shouldn't press it with a hot iron—whatever that is. I didn't ask," she tossed the garment into the colored clothing pile, "Oh! And to use the 'hot' setting on the drying machine sparingly. The heat will harm certain fabrics."

Their hands busied with sorting clothes as she talked on, and she hoped that Kurama didn't notice how every brush of his fingers against hers made her tense. As if taking a cruel cue from fate, Kurama absently reached for a pair of panties—the same pair she wore last night. She snatched them up before he could touch them, and he recoiled his hand in surprise. His cheeks reddened once he realized what he'd almost done.

"Ah—she said I should hand wash my underpinnings," she said, stuffing the panties back into her laundry bag, out of sight, "to keep their integrity."

"Yes, of course."

The mood shifted.

"Onna—"

"Ahhhh here it comes," she said, feeling exasperated before the conversation even began, "Let's get this over with. Where would you prefer to start? I think my underwear makes for an appropriate segue to last night's adventure, don't you agree?" Her words came out with a little more bite than she intended.

Kurama sighed and kept his voice low, "I was under the impression that we had addressed that immediately after."

"You call that 'addressing'?" Ikuna scoffed, "After you forced yourself on me?" He winced to her satisfaction.

"I—I'm sorry. I know that I gave you an excuse about wanting to help you, but what I did was wrong."

She decided to twist the knife, "And manipulative."

"…Yes."

"Kurama."

He flipped the article of clothing he was holding right side out, "Yes, Onna."

"Look at me," She turned his face towards her, "You cannot play with my heart like that."

His stunned mouth fell open.

"I know you want what's best for me. Quite frankly, I'm not entirely used the idea of you fretting over me so openly, but Kurama…" she hardened her stare, "I will not let you twist my heart around that way again. You are not that man anymore." She held his gaze, willing him to understand her. After a moment, she averted her eyes, "There was a moment last night where you didn't even look like yourself… You looked like him."

"Like 'him'? Onna, I _am_ him."

"No," she confronted him again, "you're not. I would know. I lived with you. Slept in your bed. I know exactly the kind of man you were." She reached out to him and gently brushed his hair from his face, lingering her touch against his jaw.

"Please, Kurama," she pleaded softly, "don't use my emotions like that again."

He took her hand in his and held it against his cheek, "I promise."

She rested her head against his collarbone, but his body tensed in response. She broke away with a racing heart and moved to load the first pile of clothes into the machine, like the old woman had shown her. She didn't see when Kurama reached out, or when he dropped his arms to his sides instead of holding her.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, held it, and released. When he opened his eyes, Ikuna was standing dumbly in front of the machine and holding the detergent. She'd been so wrapped up in the emotion that she'd forgotten much of grandmother's instruction. The corners of Kurama's mouth tugged upward, "Onna, would you like help?"

She whipped around, "It's your fault that elderly woman's words slipped my mind, you know." She relinquished the detergent bottle into Kurama's hands and returned to the table with her other clothes, not bothering to watch him, "You always pick the most inconvenient times to harass me."

Kurama started the washing machine and looked at her sideways, "I understand that you don't particularly enjoy my line of questioning, but I wouldn't say that I harass you. I would call it 'friendly confrontation.'"

She scoffed and sat on a bench facing the rows of washing machines. Kurama strode over and leaned against the counter next to her.

"How long do we wait for it to finish?" she asked.

He checked his watch, "Thirty minutes."

She gaped, "Thirty minutes? But I have another pile that needs washing! At this rate I'll be here for a least two hours."

"Why don't we wash the other load at the same time?"

"Is that allowed?"

"Of course, as long as you have enough money."

Ikuna opened her wallet and retrieved a few coins to pass to Kurama.

"Pfft—Onna, don't you think you should try it for yourself?" he asked.

She frowned, "You would rather me stumble through this chore and ruin my clothes than use your patience and attention to detail to complete it efficiently?"

Kurama laughed out loud, and wrapped his slender fingers around her hand to pull her to her feet.

"Here, I'll walk you through it."

It was during his walk home late that night that he realized she had never given him the chance to ask where all her energy came from.

* * *

NoodleNote: Man, I had such a hard time writing this chapter. I wrote and rewrote and cut out and added so much. It was about twice as long as this, but felt so clunky. I'm glad I finally got it to a point where I felt good enough about it to post it!

Thanks for sticking it out with me! And to everyone leaving comments and PMing me kind words, you folks really rock my world.

See you next chapter! Maybe we'll see Ikuna emotionally manipulate more people! Why do you think she's being an asshat? Are you curious about any of the other characters? Did I make a typo and look like a fool? Let me know!


	15. 15

**Running Together**

15: In the Kuwabara Residence...

* * *

"Hey."

"Hrm?"

"You wanna go out tonight?"

Kazuma looked up from his breakfast at Shizuru. It wasn't like her to actually talk during meals unless she was nagging him about school or something. Sure, he secretly liked the attention from his sister—particularly when when it didn't hurt—but her inconsistent behavior was starting to make him nervous.

"You sure? You were riding me pretty hard about studying last week," he said cautiously.

Shizuru sighed, "Do you want to or not?"

"Why don't you take Botan?" he elbowed her with a suggestive smirk and waggled his eyebrows, "You don't need me as a wingman or anything, I mean, you seem to be gettin' pretty cozy." He lifted his chopsticks to his mouth and opened wide for a bite.

 _Twack_. Shizuru's knuckled connected with the crown of Kazuma's skull, causing him to bite down on his tongue—hard.

"What wasth that for!?" he bellowed as best he could with his throbbing tongue sticking out.

"It's polite to answer people when they ask you a question."

"Yeah, but you don't have to be so touchy about the Botan thing! JEEZ, I don't care what you do!"

"Do you want me to hit you again?" Shizuru threatened, "Your break's almost over, and I want to spend time with our friends before you all get busy again; is that so much to ask?"

"Okay, okay! I wanna go! Jeez, I've had demons hit softer than you…"

"Hey. Keiko."

Keiko looked up from her homework to Yusuke leaning against her doorframe. Her face lit up with a brilliance that made his hard squeeze.

"Yusuke! What are you doing here?"

He looked away bashfully. _She's so damn cute…_ "Is it weird for me to visit my girlfriend once in a while? Sheesh…" he grumbled.

She flushed, "No, no! It's fine. It's just," she sat back in her chair and held her hand to her chest. Something about this felt very vulnerable, "You don't usually visit if you worked late the night before."

"Are you busy?" he asked quietly, "Can you get away to go for a walk or something? I wanna…" he nervously scratched his cheek, willing the growing heat in his face to subside, "I wanna spend some time with you."

He lifted his eyes to gauge her reaction. She was radiating happiness in that smile of hers. He just about melted in her doorway. It took so little to make her happy.

"I'd love to," she beamed.

Yusuke stopped walking and looked out at the river. Keiko paused at his side.

"Yusuke?"

He laugh once through his nose, "Do you remember this place?"

She followed his gaze out and smiled with nostalgia, "We used to play on the bank when we were little," she said wistfully. She turned back to him, studying his profile, "And then we'd come here to talk when we were teenagers. That feels like so long ago."

"Yeah," was all he said. He plopped down into the grass. Keiko followed, as she always does. Always following him. Has he ever let her take the lead? Botan's words of advise swirled in his head, taunting him. How the hell was he supposed to bring this up? _Hey, Keiko, I hear you think I'm a deadbeat boyfriend. Wanna talk about it?_ Ugh, she was bound to notice if he kept on moping like this. She always notices when something's wrong. She knows everything about him. How could he let her feel like he didn't want her?

"Yusuke."

His shoulders shot up to his ears, "Y… Yeah?"

Keiko took a deep breath and steeled herself, "Yusuke I want you to touch me."

He whipped away so she couldn't see the surprise on his face, "Do you—Do you even know what you're saying right now?" He didn't expect her to be so forthcoming!

"Of course I do," she said sternly.

"Do you have to say that like a school teacher?" he whined.

She fixed her eyes right at him and continued, "I want you to touch me like any man would touch a woman. But you haven't, and I have to admit… It makes me feel a little self conscious."

He looked at her, red faced and all, and saw in her eyes and the twist of her mouth just how exposed she must have felt having this conversation. _Man, I really screw up, huh?_

"Listen, Keiko. I…" he trailed off and collected his thoughts. Now was not that time to stick his foot in his mouth, "I know how I've been making you feel lately. Botan told me." He didn't miss the look of betrayal that flashed across Keiko's face, "Don't be mad at her or anything! I pried it out of her.

"It's just that... Ahhh, I'm shit with this kind of thing. I didn't wanna scare you off," he said, still collecting his thoughts. Yeah, that sounded right, "Look, Keiko. We've all been through some shit these passed few years, and I know everything's calmed down and all, but I still… I dunno, it's like I'm still holding onto it. I know I'm putting on this easy going front, but it's like everyday I'm fighting with Sensui or Toguro all over again. I get nightmares, I whip out my spirit gun at sudden noises, hell," he looked at her and forced a wide grin, "I kinda hate crowds, now, too."

Keiko's heart squeezed, "Yusuke… Why didn't you tell me any of this?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, "I dunno, I just… I wanted to put up a brave face, I guess. And all of that weighing on me just really messed with my head, right? So I guess I got so worked up trying to hold onto whatever good thing in my life that I could that ended up idolizing you—and don't get me wrong, Keiko, you deserve it. You're more important to me than I think my stupid brain could ever understand," he flopped back into the grass with a frustrated groan, "Ahhh… I got it stuck in my own head that you would think I was a pig or crazy or something, so I just… held you at a distance."

Keiko took a moment to think on his words. Ikuna was right—he put her up on an untouchable pedestal—but there was clearly so much more to it. He's been struggling with PTSD all this time, and she didn't even know.

"Yusuke."

"Yeah?"

She leaned over him, "Before you left for that Makai Tournament, do you remember what you told me?"

His body went rigid at the memory, but sensing Keiko's purpose he said nothing.

"You said that we were going to get married when you came back."

 _Here it comes_ , he thought, _Another one of my big fuck ups_.

"If we're going to get married, you need to trust me," she said quietly. He stared at her in awe.

She continued, "Yusuke… I want to marry you. And I want you to… make love to me, and I want you to tell me when something's wrong or if you have to go save the world, and I want…" she met his eyes, "I want to be by your side."

Her name escaped his lips like breath, "Keiko…"

"But to do that, you have to let me in, okay?"

"Okay."

"You have to promise me, Yusuke. Promise me that you'll open up to me," she pinched his cheek roughly, "Okay?"

He recoiled from her, throwing himself back to escape her grip, "OW ow ow, okay, OKAY, I promise!" he paused, pouting then pulled her into the grass with him, "I promise, I won't hide stuff like that from you anymore. I'll actually communicate," he sighed, "You deserve so much more than me, you know that?"

Keiko smiled softly and rested against his chest in the morning light, "You really don't give yourself enough credit sometimes."

"Oh, don't get me wrong!" he tightened his arms around her, scowling into the depths of the sky, "I'm not letting you go for anything, I know a treasure when I got one. I'd like to see someone try to steal you away from me. I don't care how trash I am, I'll kick their ass!"

Keiko felt a giggle bubble up from her chest. She and Yusuke laughed the tension of the last hour or so away, and when they calmed they felt closer. More ready for the future.

"Yusuke?"

Yusuke angled his head to look down at her face, "Keiko?"

"Do you think you and I could take over the diner?" she asked absently.

He angled himself to look at her, "Wait, really? But what about all that schooling you've been doing? I thought you wanted to get a job at a big fancy firm in the city and make yourself a career and stuff."

"The diner can be a career, Yusuke," she argued, "But… I honestly don't really care what I'm doing, as long as I'm with you."

The phone rang out through Ikuna's apartment. She perked up from her cushion on the balcony and set down her shears. Maybe it was Kurama? It had been a few days since he last visited. The thought settled uncomfortably in her stomach, but she pushed the guilt away.

The phone's ring cut off when she picked it up, "Hello, this is Ikuna speaking,"

"We should really think up a family name for you, huh?"

"Shizuru, darling! It's been so very long since I've seen you! How are you, dear?"

Shizuru's laugh spilled through the phone like water. _It's a wonder that Botan isn't in love with her already_ , Ikuna thought to her self fondly.

"I'm good and all. I heard you were mobile, so I didn't want to bother you too much. I don't have to be concerned or anything do I?"

"Oh, I only took a little sip," Ikuna was glad Shizuru couldn't see her fidget, "I don't want the succubus legend to resurface."

"So who was it? Landlord? Mailman? _Kurama_?"

"No, no, you were correct the second time," Ikuna sputtered, "Had a bit of a run in with the mailman, you see. A little platonic hand holding."

"Yeesh. I know you gotta eat and all, but that poor guy. You said being awake during the process can hurt a little, right? How did he react?"

Ikuna's pressed her lips together. She'd never had to lie about feeding before. The questions either remain unasked or died with her victim. And here she was completely unprepared for the most obvious line of questioning, "He didn't react. I put him to sleep before I took that little sip. When he woke, I told him that he'd fainted from exhaustion," she said. She waited with bated breath for Shizuru to call her out on her lie.

"Huh," was all she said.

"He seemed to have accepted that," Ikuna added after a beat of silence.

"Uh huh… And how do you feel?"

Ikuna leaned back against the wall and nervously twirled the phone cord, "I supposed I could describe the feeling it as 'alive.'"

"That's not what I—ahhh you'll tell me when you feel like it. Anyways listen, I was thinking we could have one last hurrah before the kids' fall break is over, and I figured you'd be ready to get out and have some fun now that you're all bright eyed and bushy tailed. What do you say, lady?"

Ikuna's face brightened, "Oh, how intriguing! I must say that I've never partaken in any sort of revelry before."

"Like, you've never gone out on the town or anything like that?"

"No, I can't say that I have."

"But weren't you living in the human world for like 300 years or something?"

"Yes, and I occupied my time with ghastly slaughter," she paused for a beat, "And then entertaining once oirans came into fashion. It was a wonderful hundred years or so of art and easy prey."

"And all that time, you just hung around the brothel?"

"Yes, well… I can't say that I made many friends in my hay day."

"Huh. Well, you got them, now. Come out with us tonight. Kazuma and I can pick you up at the train station in our neighborhood at seven."

Ikuna checked the clock that Kurama had hung on her wall. That seemed like such a long time to wait. She felt her insides flutter in anticipation, "It would be an honor, my lovely Shizuru."

Shizuru chuckled softly over the phone, "Cool. I'm gonna try calling Keiko's place again. See you later, lady."

"Goodbye, Shizuru. Give Kazuma my love."

"Heh, sure. Later," and the line went dead.

Ikuna stood grinning so hard her cheeks hurt. Going out with friends. She could hardly wait.

 **End Chapter 15**

* * *

 _Noodle Note_ : You folks leaving reviews really make my heart leap up, you know that? I love responding to you and talking about the story! Also, I edited chapter 11 to add a extra smidgen of spice. The scene just wasn't getting the point across, so I had to make it slightly hotter, and I'm not sorry.

I've been waiting so long to write out this next coming chapter. Who's getting drunk? Who's flirting with who? A drinking challenge? Announcements? I'm so stoked to share it with you guys!

See you next chapter!


	16. 16

**Running Together**

Chapter 16: Outside the Apartment...

* * *

Ikuna couldn't hide her smile listening Kazuma's grand proclamations of love.

"And you say he's been like this ever since?" she asked Shizuru.

"Wait for me, Yukina!" Kazuma cried, oblivious to their conversation. He crossed the street in one love struck leap, "Your warrior of love is on his way!"

Shizuru chuckled, "Yeah. He came home one day all beat up and going on and on about some 'gentle snow maiden.' I thought he was strung out on something."

"Well, they say one should eat before falling in love. You of all people should know about that," Ikuna said leering at Shizuru.

Shizuru raised her chin high, "I don't know what you mean. You're talking weird," she said dismissively.

Kazuma fell back in step with the other three, "Hey, looks like we both have a blue-haired maiden in our future, huh sis?"

Kurama who had been lost in thought, joined , "Oh, are we talking about Botan?"

Ikuna nudged Shizuru, "Well, it's too early for all that, isn't it?"

Shizuru sped up her pace, "I'm not entertaining this."

Kurama looked to Ikuna, but she pinched back a smirk and kept her eyes forward.

Kazuma burst through the entrance of the restaurant, head swiveling this way and that. He finally spotted what he was looking for, "Yukina!"

The first half of their party had arrived earlier and were sat on cushions around a table in a far end of the restaurant, Yusuke sitting at one end of the table, Keiko on his left and Botan and Yukina on his right. Yukina spun around at the sound of Kazuma's gravelly voice, face beaming.

"Kazuma!" She cheered. He sprang forward in a blaze of love, shouting her name like a declaration.

Then he halted in place. "HEY, what's shrimpy doin' here!?"

All eyes turned to Hiei, sat at the very corner of the table as far away from everyone else as physically possible. In place of his usual robes was an all black ensemble of a simple buttoned shirt, denim jeans, and shoes. He glanced up to assess Kazuma before coolly turning away.

Kurama slid into a seat to Hiei's left, "Your new clothes suit you, Hiei. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Hn. I'm not here because I want to be."

The rest of the bellied up to the table. Kazuma plopped down next to Yukina, and Ikuna sat on his right to be near Kurama. Shizuru knitted her eyebrows together, looking between Botan and the only other spot open. Reluctantly, she sat there between Keiko and Hiei.

"Now, Hiei. I thought we were done pretending you don't like your friends," Kurama teased.

"Yukina convinced Hiei to come out with us!" Botan said.

"Yeah, it worked out better than I thought," Yusuke said, "'Cause this way we can break the news to everyone a the same time."

Ikuna narrowed her eyes at him and Keiko, "News?" she pried.

They exchanged bashful grins.

"Hang on, we haven't even gotten drinks, yet!" Botan exclaimed, "You can't drop this kind of news on us without something to toast with!"

"What kind of news are you thinkin'?" Yusuke asked coyly.

"Ohhhhhh!"

A server wandered over to take drink orders around the table. Beers, water, and whiskey were requested, but once they got to Hiei:

"Nothing."

"S-Sir? I can bring you a glass of water..." the server stammered at Hiei's cold demeanor.

"I said I'm not ordering anything."

"Oh, uhhh, b-but we only serve paying customers."

"Then don't serve me."

"Well... You'll have to leave, then."

"Like hell I will."

I thought he didn't want to be here... his friends thought to themselves.

Yusuke leaned forward, "He'll take a beer. On my tab," he said. The server nodded and hurried off.

"Don't think that I'll drink it just because you bought it," Hiei growled.

"Just take the damn beer, man," Yusuke said through a tight grin.

The server returned, passing mugs and glasses into grateful hands.

"Oh, the waiter brought you an extra one, Ikuna?" Keiko asked.

Ikuna wordlessly knocked back one drink and handed the empty back to the server before taking up her second one.

"Oh."

"Speaking of," Yusuke began with a cocky grin, "Hey, Kurama. I've always wondered, how much can you drink?"

Kurama placed a curled finger against his chin and thought for a moment, "I don't partake often, but my constitution is marginally higher than average for a human."

"So you're a heavyweight?"

"I would say it's likely," Kurama replied. He thought back to the other night and how he'd still felt relatively in control of his motor functions after splitting that bottle of soju with Ikuna.

"So... Ya wanna put that to the test?"

All eyes flickered back and forth from Yusuke and Kurama.

"You see," Yusuke continued with a challenging air, "It's just that I've always been a heavyweight drinker myself. And I wonder if that's because of all that demon blood in my veins. So I've been wondering... Which one would drop first if we were to go drink for drink against each other, you or me?"

Kurama raised his eyebrows, "Well, Yusuke, I believe that would be you."

Yusuke's grin widened, "Ya think?"

Kurama shot him a competitive smirk of his own, "I know."

"That settles it, then," Yusuke tilted his head back and drained his beer, "Let the games begin."

"Yusuke," Keiko whispered sharply.

He grimaced, "Oh, shit—right. Sorry, babe," he kissed her cheek and turned to address their friends, "So, hey guess what Keiko and I are doin' next month?"

Yusuke, Botan, and Kazuma lead the walk back from the restaurant linked arm in arm, singing some demon world drinking song they learned years ago. As the final notes rang out from their untrained mouths, Yusuke broke off to rope an arm around Hiei's shoulders.

"You're pretty quiet, Hiei," he chortled, "You doin' okay? I know those two whole beers hit your little body pretty hard!"

Hiei stumbled slightly and whacked Yusuke's hand away. "Unhand me!" he barked, "I won't succumb to your human world poison. This is NOTHING. I was born in FIRE." Yusuke howled with laughter and backedaway with palms raised. Hiei padded along, unabashedly staring at someone off to the side. Yusuke followed Hiei's eyes to Yukina.

He offered the sorry demon a half smile, and pat him on the back, "Hey, man," he said quietly, "You're never gonna be satisfied until ya just tell her."

"Hn. What do you know," he said.

Yusuke opened his mouth to argue, but thought better of it. Hiei's heard it all before from each of them, and talking to him now would just make him shut down even more. Like Kurama once said, no one can make him tell Yukina that he's her brother—he'll have to decide for himself.

Yusuke reluctantly left Hiei's side to fall in step with Keiko and Yukina. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, and she smiled fondly at him.

"Hey Keiko," he said, "You coming back to my place tonight?" Yukina giggled girlishly.

"Actually Yusuke," Keiko said, "Yukina is spending the night at my house, so you'll have to go home on your own."

"Augh—What!?" he exclaimed, "I don't even get an invite?"

Kazuma whirled around, almost pulling Botan off balance, "What? I wanna sleep over at Keiko's!"

"You just wanna sleep over because Yukina's there!"

"Oh yeah? And what about you?"

"Keiko's my fiancée I can sleep over if I want!"

"Not while Yukina's there without me, you can't!"

"Hey, shut it!" Shizuru yelled, "Nobody's sleeping over at anyone's fiancées' tonight if you keep yelling in the middle of the street!"

"Onna's not my fiancée," came a small slurring voice from the back of the group.

All heads turned to where Ikuna held a swaying Kurama upright. Kurama wavered under the attention. She watched his face curiously, all of them waiting for him to continue.

"So," he said, "I get to sleep with her tonight, right?"

There was a beat of stunned silence before the entire group—Hiei included—erupted in raucous laughter.

Ikuna bit her cheek and walked with Kurama passed the others, "No, sir. We'll be dropping you off at your house tonight. I believe you're working with your stepfather in the morning?"

"I can take an early train home," he protested, "Shouldn't we make good on this opportunity we've been granted?" Botan leaned over to Kazuma and whispered something that made him giggle conspiringly.

Ikuna laughed at Kurama, ignoring the blatant stares from their friends, "My love, you can stay the night any other time you'd like. You don't have to wait for Shizuru to give us permission."

"I suppose you're right," he said softly, shuffling along.

"Besides," Ikuna continued, "Your house is much closer. You would't want me to carry you the entire way back to my apartment, do you?"

"It wouldn't be the first time."

"Hey, hey, hey!" Kazuma interjected, "Now that sounds like a story I wanna hear!"

"Mm! I'll take this one, Onna," Kurama whirled towards the rest of the group, almost toppling Ikuna, "When we were lovers, I got hurt and—"

"Whoa, whoa, back up!" Yusuke interrupted, holding up his hands in a "timeout" gesture, "When you were what?"

Kurama looked from face to face, not quite comprehending the situation. Why were they all so shocked? Wasn't the nature of his and Ikuna's relationship obvious? It wasn't a big deal. He tried to focus his eyes on Ikuna's as best he could through the haze, "We weren't telling them that?"

Ikuna sighed loudly, "I suppose we are now, you drunk fool."

"Oh well," Kurama whipped around to address everyone again, tripping her up. "Sorry, sorry," he pulled away from her stabilizing hold, opting to hold her hand instead. This way he can maintain contact with her and keep her safe from his failing motor control. She rested her free palm against her forehead.

"Anyways," he continued, "I took a beating once a long time ago. I'd split off from the group and run into some trouble on the way back from a raid. I was already injured, and by the time the fight was finished, my body was broken and I couldn't stand. Yuki-Onna here noticed I was missing and found me. She dragged me the entire way back to our encampment by herself and nursed me back to health," he gazed at her intensely, "It was the most kindness anyone had shown me up until then. I'd put you in so much danger, and you still came to my side."

Keiko, Botan, and Yukina collectively sighed.

"Pfft. I should have left you there."

Keiko, Botan, and Yukina collectively sputtered. Shizuru threw her head back and cackled.

Kurama turned back to address their friends again, "I was a shit." His riveting disclosure was rewarded with another round of laughter.

"I gotta get you drunk more often, man," Yusuke cried, wiping his eyes.

"I don't like it."

"No?"

"No, I don't feel like anyone's taking me seriously..."

"Oh, sweetheart," Ikuna murmured, "Is this because I said you couldn't spend the night tonight?" Sensing the intimacy, the others fell into thier own separate conversations, leaving her and Kurama in their own world.

"No..."

"Are you lying?" she chuckled.

He threw an arm around her shoulder and pressed a grin into her hair. She once again wound her arm around his waist to help steady him, and they walked pressed together at the hip.

"You know..." she began.

"Hm?" he

"You called me 'dear' the other night," she said.

He chuckled, "Did I?"

"You did. And you know what?"

"What?"

She tilted her lips to his ear, "I liked it," she breathed. He shivered, shoulders hitching up to block her from flustering himany further. If his face wasn't red from the drink, it was red now. He recovered quickly and leaned close, almost brushing noses with her. Her lips parted, but no words came out.

"Then I'll make sure I don't do it again," he said simply.

She gasped and pushed him away with a laugh, "Kurama, you're so cruel!"

"Hey, eyes on the road, you two!" Shizuru jeered at them. Almost on cue, Kurama stumbled over a crack in the cement. She linked an arm with Botan and smirked at her, "Kids these days, right?"

Ikuna inched the front door open and led Kurama into the stillness of his house.

"Home at last!" he said just a little too loudly.

She gently shushed him, "You'll wake your family. Come, let's get you to bed."

Kurama simply grunted in response and trudged up the stairs.

"Quietly," Ikuna hissed behind him.

"I think I'm hungry."

"Shh—You just ate an hour ago!"

"I think that I know this body better than you do."

"Then you'll be aware that you aren't actually hungry, just orally fixated."

Kurama paused in the middle of the hallway to shoot a wolffish grin over his shoulder.

She flattened her eyebrows. "Kurama, no," she deadpanned.

"Big bro?"

Ikuna and Kurama jumped a few feet in the air. Kokodo stood right inside of his bedroom door, blinking bleary eyes at his brother and his brother's pretty guest.

"Bro, it's like one in the morning," Kokodo whispered, rubbing his face. He gestured to Ikuna, "And who the hell is this?"

"Oh, I won't be staying very long," Ikuna whispered hastily, "I'm merely seeing him to bed. A touch inebriated, he is."

Kurama nodded vigorously, "Yes, I couldnt get home by myself! This is the result of giving in to peer pressure," he slurred.

"Yes! Yes, Suichi let our friends over serve him. Let this be a lesson," Ikuna said a little too enthusiastically.

Kokodo looked from one to the other warily, "Yeah... Sure. Just keep it down, okay?"

The pair nodded silently, and Ikuna pushed Kurama down the hall to his room.

 _Wait,_ what _did she call him?_ Kokodo thought.

Kurama began pulling off his shirt before Ikuna had even shut the door.

"Of all the ways to meet your family—Oh no, sweetheart you should unbutton it first," she said watching him struggle. He wiggled the shirt over his chest, but froze with shirt over his head and arms stuck straight up. Ikuna laughed through her nose, waiting for his next move. Kurama struggled weakly and gave up again.

"Onna...?" he whined.

"Pfft. I'm coming, my love," she went to him and edged his shirt over his shoulders, exposing his face, "There you are! Now, what did we learn?"

He chuckled, "To listen to you."

Ikuna giggled, "That wasn't quite the answer I was looking for, but it's an acceptable one."

Suddenly, she became aware of how close they were to each other. Her senses were overtaken by the heat of his breath, and his taste in the air. She couldn't help drinking in the warmth of the bedside lamp on his bare skin. Her eyes wandered to his, and she felt that familiar draw, a magnetism that raised every nerve in her body. Her breathing went shallow as he held her gaze. She knew this feeling. They both knew this feeling. His eyes dropped to her lips. She yanked his shirt up.

"OW—wait!" Kurama squirmed away from her, "It's stuck in my hair!"

Ikuna jumped at his outburst, "Shh! Sorry, sorry! Hold still—hey—Stop moving!" she commanded in a hushed tone. He pulled back and lost his balance, sending him and Ikuna tumbling down onto the bed. They laid there for a moment, legs tangled together, chest pressed against chest, Ikuna's nose buried in the crook of Kurama's neck.

"What a cliché," she muttered. She pushed herself up and leveled a stern look at him, "Alright, Kurama. I can confidently say that I am annoyed with you." He smiled at her sheepishly. She rolled her eyes.

He pulled his arms out of his shirt and sat up with it still stuck in his hair, "Onna, are you angry with me?" he asked timidly. She heaved a sigh and scoot back against the wall. She reached for his shoulders and gently pulled him back against her chest.

"No, I couldn't be angry with you. I love you," she said. She began working to untangle the shirt buttons from his hair. It looked like there was more than just one entangled in his tresses.

"One can love someone and still be mad at them."

Ikuna snorted, "Maybe someone like Keiko. We both know I'm not as gentle hearted. Oops—sorry, I pulled that button a touch too hard. Did that hurt?"

Kurama winced, "A little."

The conversation drew to a lull, and Kurama settled back against her chest with his arms folded in his lap. He could have fallen asleep right then. He studied the curves of her slender legs on either side of him while Ikuna's deft fingers made quick work of the buttons. Soon the shirt was freed and tossed to the side.

"I'm finished," she said.

"Hm," he replied drowsily.

She sat still, waiting for him to move off of her. She recalled that evening at the restaurant, how he would shift his leg away from hers or declined when she offered to pour his drink. He'd been physically distant since The Other Night, and she knew it was because of their conversation in the coin laundry. It had only been a couple days and she already missed this casual familiarity between them. It was true that she was upset about his advance, but it was the intention behind it, not the action itself. He didn't mean it the way she wanted him to.

"Ahhh... I'm such a fool," she muttered.

"Onna?"

She shifted, "Let me up. I'll fetch a glass of water from the kitchen and get out of your hair."

He chuckled sleepily at her accidental joke, but all she could muster was a weak smile. He spread out on the bed out of her way. She stood. He caught her hand.

"Wait. It's late," he said quietly, "You should stay."

She scoffed at him good-naturedly, "You're drunk," she said.

"I'm sobering up a little."

"You said that at the restaurant."

He didn't let her go. "Hey... Onna?"

She pulled her hand out of his. "I know that tone. Whatever you're about to say should wait until the morning. It's too late for serious talk," she sat on the edge of his bed and pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead, "Sleep. Before I make you."

He smiled for the last time that night before letting his eyes close and falling asleep. His hair spilled over the pillow in a deep red river, eyelashes casting shadows across his cheek. She brushed her finger down the bridge of his nose to the fullness of his lower lip. She briefly wondered what it would be like to kiss that lip again.

"I'm in trouble," she said.

 **End Chapter 16**

* * *

 **NoodleNote:** Sorry it was so late! I ended up writing out this big long bit that didn't need to be in there and had to scrap the original chapter and start from scratch. There were some scenes I'm definitely saving for later, though! Either ways, I figured out babies needed a break, and I heckin' gave them one!

See you next chapter!

[EDITED FOR CLARITY AND TYPOS]


	17. 17

**Running Together**

17: In His Bedroom...

* * *

Kurama woke from a dreamless sleep with a sensitive stomach and a sense of regret he couldn't place. He mentally ran through the events of the night before. There was Yusuke and Keiko's engagement announcement, both Kuwabara siblings' individually pining over a "blue-haired maiden." He recalled Hiei doing everything he could to appear as though he was having a miserable time—that is until he and Botan switched seats. That placed Botan next to Shizuru and Hiei between Yusuke and Yukina. Kurama had caught Hiei smiling to himself at least twice after that.

And then there was Ikuna. He was overcome with images of Ikuna lightly flirting with the server, Ikuna taking another long drink, Ikuna passively seething when Kurama declined her offer to pour his sake (really, that sort of servitude in public was a little embarrassing...), Ikuna lightly flirting with Kazuma (?) then Botan, then the server again, Shizuru taking Ikuna outside for a cigarette and a "talk" (he should ask her how Ikuna reacted to being chastized for her behavior), and finally Ikuna sending Kurama down the table to sit near the other guys while she and the girls huddled together giggling to themselves. Once Kurama was seated his new spot, Yusuke had taken it upon himself to increase the intensity of his drinking challenge, guzzling down his beer and encouraging him to do the same.

Kurama's recollection of the walk home was spotty at best. He remembered a moment where all of his friends were staring at him with gaping mouths. What had he done to make them react that way? No... he didn't do anything, but he had said something. He'd nonchalantly mentioned his and Ikuna's romantic(?) history after she'd made it clear that she'd rather they keep that information to themselves. Their friends will likely start teasing them about it, now... Come to think of it, Hiei and Shizuru didn't look all that surprised.

Kurama sighed and rolled over in his bed. His back hit something solid—definitely a person—and he was rewarded with a groggy, "Mmf—!" He twisted around to look.

Ikuna lay next to him, serene and inches away from his face. She blinked sleepy eyes at him and shifted onto her side to face him. They laid there for a few breaths, studying one another, taking in the disheveled hair and the smudged makeup, the rumpled shirt and the puffy eyes. With slow, deliberate movement Ikuna tucked a lock of Kurama's hair behind his ear. She let her cool hand rest against his cheek.

She chuckled softly. "I suppose I should explain."

A knock sounded against Kurama's door, "Suichi!" Shiori's voice called from the other side.

Ikuna's eyes snapped wide open and she sprang out of the bed and onto the floor with a thud.

"Suichi?"

"Yes, Mother, I'm awake!" Kurama leapt up. Ikuna gestured to him with wild eyes, What do we do!? Her panic gripped him, and his eyes darted around the room, looking for somewhere—anywhere—for her to hide.

"Suichi, what was that noise? Are you alright?"

"Yes, I fell out of bed is all!" He pointed sharply to his closet. Ikuna scrunched her face at the neatly hung shirts and pressed trousers—at the blatant lack of proper cover. He violently rolled his eyes at her and thrust his finger towards the closet again, "It looks like I slept in! Clumsy me!" he added for Shiori's benefit. Ikuna scurried into the closet and tried concealng herself behind a few shirts and a small chest of drawers. Kurama hissed, I can still see you! She threw her hands up at him, What did you expect!?

"Oh... Well, hurry or you'll miss breakfast," Shiori said warily.

"I will!" Kurama called. Ikuna, sensing the end of the danger, released a loud breath.

"Suichi, did you just sigh?"

Kurama's shoulders hitched, "What? No, I was yawning—!" He looked at Ikuna pointedly. She grimaced.

"...That's it, I'm coming in."

"W-Wait!" Kurama reached for the door to hold it closed, but Shiori was too quick. She swung open the door and crossed her arms, leveling him with a steady gaze. He self consciously covered his bare chest.

"Son."

"Mother..."

She looked passed him.

"Mother, I—"

"Suichi..." she said sternly.

He lowered his head and waited for her to continue. Realistically, she wouldn't be all that upset catching him with a girl in his room. He was currently of college age and had spent his entire youth as a model student and child. She would briefly scold him out of obligation, but immediately welcome Ikuna with open arms. That was the sort of warm hearted person Shiori was. Be that as it may, her disappointment still hurt.

Shiori cupped his face in her hands, the shiny scar tissue up her arms catching the morning light. Her face and tone softened, "What has gotten into you? You're acting strangely, my son. Are you still sick?"

Kurama snuck a bewildered peek at the closet behind him. Ikuna wasn't anywhere to be seen, "I, uh—"

"Suichi, please look me in the eyes when you speak to me."

He did as his mother said. She really was incredibly concerned for him and it showed in the lines of her face. Guilt settled in his already upset stomach, and he reached up to hold his mother's hands in his own.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I hate making you worry. You were right, I haven't been feeling very well since the other day. Instead of taking care of myself, I went out with my friends last night. I..." he looked askance, "I was embarrassed about being caught sleeping in with a hangover..."

Shiori sighed audibly, "Oh thank goodness. I was afraid you'd begun feeling worse and were trying to hide it from me, but if it's just a hangover," she laughed in relief and pinched his cheek, "Shame on you not taking care of yourself when you were supposed to work with Kazuya today."

"O-Ow, Mother!" he whined, but didn't dare pull away.

"Son, you work too hard. You have since you were little. You deserve to make silly mistakes now and then, you know," she wrapped him in an embrace, "I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you."

Kurama held her tightly, "I know. I'm sorry I made you worry, Mother."

They stood there for a long moment, mother and son, until it was time to break away.

"I'm going to tell Kazuya you're not working with him today," Shiori said.

Kurama shook his head, "No, I should still go with him. I can't call in sick just because I wasn't being responsible last night."

Shiori beamed, "My hardworking son. Some extra rice will help your stomach settle." Kurama smiled at that, her knowing what ailed him without having to ask. She moved as if to leave, then paused expectantly.

He tilted his head at her. "...Mother? Is there something else?"

She looked away innocently. "Well, I was just going to ask if Ikuna was there, too."

He sighed, "I'll be downstairs in a few minutes."

"Alright, alright, I'll let it be," she said nearing the door, "It's just that I was thinking maybe you came down with lovesickness."

He felt his ears catch fire, "MOther—"

She tittered out of the room before he could say anything else.

He turned to the closet to change, flipping through the hangers with a smile cracking his face. Nothing in his long life could compare to having a family that cared about him.

"Lovesickness, hm?"

Kurama flinched defensively and looked up. Ikuna was pressed up against the ceiling of the closet wedged between the walls. A slow grin slithered across her face.

"In retrospect, you really didn't need to hide. She would have been elated to catch a woman in my room," he sighed, backing away from the closet. Ikuna began clambering down.

"Any woman, or me specifically?" she purred.

"What are you doing in my room, anyways?"

She leaned toward him teasingly, "Oh, darling you're not changing the subject that easily." He remained stone faced. She pouted. "To think you used to be fun," she wandered about his room, straightening her clothes and hair and inspecting different things around the space, "I had left after I saw you to bed, but by the time I had found the train station the last one had gone. So, I came back here," she stopped at his desk and gestured to her shoes and jacket lying in plain view of where his mother had stood moments before, "You know, as doting as she is, your mother isn't very bright."

"Firstly, I'd appreciate it if you didn't insult my family in my own home again," he said, "Secondly, she doesn't generally think about scanning a room. She's never been made to feel like she had to."

"As far as you know, anyways," Ikuna said, "But I concede. That wasn't very kind of me to say." She perched at the edge of his bed and began pulling on her boots, crossing and uncrossing her legs and letting her skin peek through the slit of her skirt. Her hair spilled over her shoulder, brushing against her collarbone and falling around her like a veil. The morning light streaming through his window cast her form in a golden halo. She was the image of a beautiful ghost. Kurama realized he'd stopped breathing.

Her lips pulled up in a smirk as she finished zipping her boot. "Staring is rather unbecoming of a gentleman, don't you think?"

He quirked an eyebrow at her, "Not to deflect, but one could argue that breaking and entering is unbecoming of a lady."

Ikuna settled back on her elbows, "You don't have to be embarrassed. Our mother made us the embodiments of traditional beauty ideals," she winked, "I'm a vision. You can't help it."

Kurama turned back to the closet, plucking clothes from their hangers. You're always toying with me... he thought. He neatly set his outfit out and reached for his belt to undo yesterday's pants. He paused and looked at Ikuna. She looked back.

"Onna, didn't we just talk about staring?"

She rolled her eyes, "It's nothing I haven't seen before," Still, she shuffled around until she was facing the window. After a moment, "You may have to cause a diversion for me to leave. There's too much daylight for me to steal through the window again."

"You should have left before dawn," Kurama said. Once he was sure she wouldn't turn around to peek at him he began undressing.

She turned her head just enough so he can see the sour twist of her mouth, "Darling, do you know what time I dragged you in? Dawn was never in the cards." She waited for him to respond, but he just laughed quietly. She settled back listening to the shifting of fabric, and drifted off into a memory. They'd been here before, long ago, in a fire lit hovel hidden underground. He'd been in the center of the room, with flickering light licking the curve of his arms, the line of his chest, the crest of his hips. She had been lying back in a bed of grass and furs watching him undress after a long night away. She was waiting for him. She was wanting him. Yuki-Onna flexed her hands and dug her fingers into the furs.

Ikuna firmly shook the memory from her head. Stop that, she thought to herself.

Kurama pulled an undershirt over his head, deep in thought, "Did you reactivate my wards when you came in last night?"

"Hm? Oh—no. I'm a one-trick pony, you know that."

"Heh, I thought you would have picked something up from our time together."

"Hm."

He eyed her. "What are you thinking about?"

"I'm trying to think about nothing," she said tightly. He wondered if she was trying to meditate right then of all the times, but he decided to let her be.

"I'm decent, now," he said, adjusting the hang of his tie. She flipped around to face him again, and stood.

"Oh! Here, allow me," she said, taking the ends up in her hands. Closing the distance between them may have been a bad idea, but she couldn't pass up the opportunity to busy her thoughts away.

He chuckled, "Since when have you known how to tie a necktie?" She weighed the ends of his tie, holding her hands this way and that to get her bearings.

"I saw it on the television, once," she crossed one length over the other. It was the wrong way, "It didn't look too terribly difficult. And yet—" she crossed under and over, again, "—I am clearly not doing this correctly."

"May I?" he asked. She nodded and he took his hands in hers, "How about I show you, so that you can tie it for me the next time?"

Her face lit up as she shone a brilliant smile at him. He hadn't seen such genuine joy on her face in a long time. "I would love that," she said. Something in her tone brought up images from their walk home last night, and he was reminded of the moments spent murmuring to each other, words meant for just the two of them.

He cleared his throat and pushed the thoughts away. Waking up next to her had clearly dredged up some old emotions he wasn't prepared for. He forced his focus on his instructions and blatantly ignored her presence taking over his senses, "First, we adjust the thin side," he drew down the length of the tie until its edge brushed the top of his belt buckle, "This side stays stationary while we make the knot. It'll determine how long the tie is once we're finished. Next, we'll go over and then back under... And then cross over again," he wound their hands around each other's, fingers and palms brushing together in a slow dance. Traces of warm alcohol and last night's perfume washed over him, and he held steady, eyes trained on the tie, the tie, the tie. He raised his chin, exposing the warm flesh of his neck and revealing the line of his jaw. The back of Ikuna's hand caressed the heart of his throat as he tucked the end of the tie into its loop. He reluctantly peeled is hands away from hers. She wondered if he could feel the hammering of her heart in the veins of her fingers. She hesitantly met his eyes, waiting for further instruction. She could see the wheels turning in his head, as if he were deciding something. She knew that look.

"What..." her voice came out in a whisper, "What do I do, now?"

"Now you slide the knot up to tighten it," he said quietly.

She did as he said, fingers running along the center of his chest before meeting the crook of his neck. He shivered despite himself, but he was too far gone to curse himself for it. He knew she felt it when her hands refused to leave his necktie, and her eyes refused to leave his. She gently tugged on his collar, drawing his face down, both following the irresistable pull to one another.

She smirked, "I see I still got it."

Kurama felt his face flush full force. He jerked back, "Now who's toying with emotions?" he muttered and straightened his collar.

"We can call it even for the other night," she snickered, "Ahhh, I missed that pretty red on those cheeks. Come now, let me see!" He continued avoiding her eyes, but she wrestled with his arms trying to catch a glimpse of his face. He spun around and caught her up in his arms, holding her around her shoulders with her back against his chest.

"I think that's enough out of you," he grumbled into her hair, "We should sneak you out of here before someone hears you teasing me."

Ikuna leaned back against his chest contently, "Hmm, Kurama your human body is so small."

His eyebrow twitched, "You really are trying to annoy me, aren't you Onna?"

She rested her head back, "It's a good thing. We fit together much better this way, don't you agree?" He did agree, but he wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of knowing that.

"Come on," he guided her toward the door, "They'll grow suspicious if I'm not down soon," he took a deep breath and pulled it open. He could clearly hear his family enjoying breakfast in the kitchen. He reached back and took Ikuna's hand.

"The floor squeaks. Follow me closely, and only step when I do," he whispered.

Ikuna pursed her lips, "I'm thrilled to have you along on my very first stealth mission."

The corner of his mouth pulled up at her thick sarcasm, "Even human mothers can have their moments of perseption. Wait at the bottom of the stairs until I give the signal that it's clear."

"Yes, sir," she crooned. He shot a playful smirk back to her, recognizing that part of him that still liked being addressed as an alpha. She smirked back and squeezed his hand, "Well? Lead the way, boss."

They crept down the hall, Ikuna's footsteps indistiguishable from his own. They fell into rhythm effortlessly, and Kurama was reminded at just how easy it was to get pulled back into her gravity. How many times had they done this same maneuver? How many other things could they still do effortlessly together, as if they'd never parted ways?

They halted at the very bottom of the stairs. Kurama peered around the corner and down the hallway. All three of his family members were sitting at the kitchen table. The news playing on the television would drown out any sounds from the door, but Shiori and Kokoda's seats at the table were in plain view of the front door. Whatever distraction Kurama chose had to be good.

"On my signal," he murmured, "leave the stair well and escape through the front door." He moved to step into the hallway. She pulled him back.

"Wait, I hardly think a bird call is an appropriate signal in this situation," she hissed, "Pick a new signal!"

"Just wait for a lot of noise. I trust you," he said with a glint in his eye. Sneaking around like this gave him a rush that he missed. She shook her head fondly and pressed a kiss to his cheek. For old time's sake.

"Good luck, my love," she whispered.

He tossed back his shoulders and sauntered down the hallway, pinching back a grin.

 **End Chapter 17**

* * *

 **Noodle Note:** Oh, hello! It's been a while, and in regards to that I have a quick question. Would you guys rather have shorter chapters and moroe frequent updates or longer chapters and less frequent updates? I only get the time and privacy to write for maybe an hour or two total a week, and you guys know I love (and I mean LOVE) editing and revising over and over.

Also, ta da! I decided to roll with the succubus lore that succubi are created more so than born. Kurama spends a lot of time looking at her, so I wanted to make it clear and fic-canon that Yuki-Onna was created in a very specific image—that being the traditional Japanese beauty standard of extra fair skin, super thin, long hair all that. I personally believe that we're all beautiful (I myself am short, tan, and love beer and bread), so I really wanted to shoehorn that into the story somewhere.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! See you next one~


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